Blue Eyes and Emerald Isles
by xxWickedWench
Summary: "When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us." Pre, during, and post-strike. .Complete. Part I of III.
1. she's outta control, so beautiful

**_Well, all right. So. It's been forever since I've put anything up here. I've been itching to write a newsies fic and found this old story on my flash drive. I'd say it was Fate. I'm revamping it, since my old story I found on my flash drive was so embarrassingly Mary Sue that I almost cried. So. Hopefully that won't happen this time. Let me know if it's Mary Sue-ish. Since, the whole Spot romance thing had spun wildly out of control._**

**_To me, I think this story is unlike anything I've ever written. It's very unlike me, so I think that's a good idea, right? Oh, I'm rambling. Please enjoy. C:_**

* * *

**blue eyes and emerald isles**

_She's dancing alone_  
_I'm ready to go but she's so_  
_Lost in stereo, lost in stereo_  
_She's out of control, so beautiful_  
_In stereo, lost in stereo_  
_And I've been waiting for so long_  
_But she'll never know_  
_I'm losing hope 'cause she's so_  
_Lost in stereo_

**_~ "Lost in Stereo" by All Time Low_**

* * *

"Hold still, child!" our house mother called, standing with her own seamstress as mine walked around and poked and prodded at my hair, pulling it out to painful lengths so the 'fake' curls bounced back to place.

I so sorely hated curlers. I loved my straight, strawberry blonde hair. It always fell to the perfec

t length just below my shoulder blades. And I liked it that way. I hated having it plaited, or curled, or braided, or anything of the like.

I waited patiently as my seamstress fixed my curls, pulled out lace ruffles from my lavish gown, and pinned up my hair. I was a dancer, not a stuck up, boring girl.

It is amazing how quickly New York City accepted me. Especially since I was Irish. I had come here six years ago on a boat from Ireland, with my best friend Sean. We were only eleven at the time. And I hadn't seen him since we got off the boat in Ellis Island. I wondered if he was doing well for himself, like he always said he would.

"Alyssa! Get your head out of the clouds!" our house mother shouted. "How many strokes was that?"

"Forty-five, ma'am," I said softly. "Five to go."

"Right," she said and then resumed beating my hair with the hairbrush for five more strokes.

Luckily, in this life, I have someone who understands. Her name is Diana, or Wicked, as the newsboys call her. Her name suits her, only because she is extremely mischievous, but sweet like her real name implies.

Diana made her entrance into my room, grinning all the while, her dress not laced up properly but she looked as happy as a clam.

"Liss! You'll never guess what Miss Medda said!" she squealed and our house mother clicked her tongue quietly at the outright unladylike gesture. "She said we are to perform tonight for the boys again! This shall be twice in one week we shall take her place and perform!"

"How delightful!" I smiled at her. "The boys are so lovely when we perform. It is as if they'd never seen a ballet."

Our house mother left the room, a kind of stupid thing to do, since it left us alone together.

"Those boys drool so much, so I don't think they've seen a ballet." Diana laughed. "Will you lace me up, love?"

I knew lacing my best friend's corset was not good manners, but there was nobody there to help her lace up. I fed the leather laces through the loops in her dress and pulled them tight. Diana groaned and then sucked in her belly, allowing proper lacing to take place. I tied them into a bow at the base of her bodice and then smiled.

"It's not too tight?" I asked.

Diana shook her head. "No, just normal lung crushing pain."

"Well, you look lovely, either way," I told her.

Diana bowed toward me. "Why, thank you very much Miss Hoity-Toity."

I bowed back at her. "You are ever so welcomed, Miss Hoity-Toity."

Diana laughed. "Can we both have the same name?"

"I dunno. Probably not."

We both laughed then, and left the giant house that fit all of us performers. There were five of us, Diana and I included. We hooked arms, walking down the street of Manhattan. It was not as warm as New York City could have been, but it wasn't chilly at all. It still made Diana and I have to carry a fan and fan ourselves. But I suppose either way, we'd have brought our fans.

We walked leisurely down the sidewalk, talking about silly things. After all, girls only spoke of silly things. They had nothing of value to say at all. Well, at least that's what we were taught.

Diana pulled me towards another street and we giggled as we rushed down the sidewalk towards the Distribution Office, a frequent stop we made on our way to singing lessons with Miss Medda.

"Goodness me! Boys, look alive! We gots angels in our midst!" Racetrack bellowed, grabbing his newspapers before rushing towards us. He grinned, removed his cap and bowed low. "Good mornin', ladies. Lovely weather, ain't it?"

Diana rolled her eyes at his attempt to make light conversation like the high class do. "Why, yes. Quite lovely weather. Wouldn't you agree, Miss O'Rourke?" Diana winked at me.

"I couldn't agree more," I said, mimicking her tone. "And while we are speaking of the weather. Don't you find that Mister Higgins is trying quite too hard to fit in?" I teased.

Race gasped in horror. "Clearly I'se mistaken you two ladies to be nice."

Diana was laughing. "Oh, Race. Lighten up," she grinned at him. "We only came to ask if you boys were coming to the show tonight."

Jack and some of the other boys shuffled up to us as well. Skittery, and Kid Blink, and the younger newsies. Such a ragged army, but very steadfast boys.

"What's in it for us?" Jack asked, grinning.

Diana and I exchanged looks. "We're performing tonight," I said, letting the secret out. It was amazing how three little words lit up those boys' faces. They all clamored to agree that they would come. It was free, after all. All of Medda's shows for the boys were free.

"Yeah, we'll come," Jack said, after the boys had quieted down. "As long as you'se girls agree to play poker with us afterward."

I pressed my lips together. That was pushing it. Our house mother would have a fit if we arrived home at such a late hour. It was unbecoming, and also extremely wrong. Apparently Diana cared not about morals and etiquette.

"Of course we're playing poker," she said, as if she were offended by the very thought of not playing. "Unless you boys are too chicken to play with two girls."

"We ain't scared of no girls," Kid Blink grinned at us. "We play dirty, and you'se girls ain't getting off easy."

Diana nodded. "Then it's settled. We shall play after the show."

A couple behind us scoffed as they walked past us, no doubt for taking to the street rats. I pulled Diana back a pace and cleared my throat.

"Thank you so very much for the directions, boys," I said loudly, for the couple to hear as they walked by. If word got back to our house mother about this little excursion, we would be followed by a chaperone at all times. "You are so very helpful to us less fortunate, lost girls."

I pulled Diana close to me. "Let's go. We're all ready late." I was always the voice of reason. Why was that?

"Yes, yes. All right," Diana sighed. "Boys, we shall see you tonight. Oh, and Jack, will you tell Brooky they're invited. Poker is always interesting with the Brooklyn boys around."

Jack nodded and the boys removed their caps in farewell. "Will do, Wicked. Angel," he nodded at me, grinning.

We waved and then shuffled quickly down the street. I was downright embarrassed, but I wasn't sure why. The rich people usually didn't bother me, but to have them scoff at us the way they did made me angry. Perhaps it was because I was not used to being rich. I came from a farm in Ireland, but now my throat was dripping in emeralds and my body was adorned with a silk dress. It was quite the far stretch from what I was used to.

But that is the life of a performer, yes?

We reached the theater in plenty of time, and she wasn't surprised that we were late. She was in good spirits, as she always was. Honestly, you could never be upset around her. She was lovely.

Diana and I reviewed our scales, singing up and down with her pianist. But she cut it short with a smile. "Working is so dull, don't you find? Why don't we do something more fun, girls?"

So, instead of our lesson, we spent the time in the back looking at costumes and picking out what we would wear that night. This part of being wealthy, I loved. The dresses and jewelry and the lovely plumes and hairpieces were divine. I also loved ballet. As much strain and work was put into it, I loved it so much that I hardly minded.

Being on stage was like nothing I had ever felt before.

Medda usually didn't stick to the distinctive style of most ballet performers. She didn't care for tutus in the least, so she refused to allow us to wear them performing. She found them hideous and unbecoming of us girls. Instead, we were flowing skirts that puffed out slightly and ended at our shins, a most odd thing to see, really, since showing your ankle was almost as taboo as sex out of wedlock.

The show was great, though. Medda warmed up the boys by singing a few songs in her vaudeville way, and it made me smile when the boys joined in and sang along with her. They were so great.

"You never met the Brooklyn boys before, have you, Liss?" Diana asked, sticking hairpins in my hair. It was tradition between us that we each do each other's hair before each performance for good luck. Silly, yes, but we didn't stop now.

I thought quietly. "No, I haven't. Odd. You'd think I would have. How many years have we been hanging around the newsies?"

Diana laughed and then turned around, each of us inspecting each other's hair for any lumps or bumps. When everything was perfect, we crowded to the door that led to the stage, listening.

"Well, boys! I've got a real treat for you tonight. Two of my best girls, Alyssa and Diana are going to dance for you tonight! So do me a favor and give them a round of applause!"

We fluttered onto the stage like little pixies, hands clasped between our bodies. We curtsied and I couldn't hold back the blush at the cheering newsies below. Medda gave the signal to our accompanist and we began dancing to the tinkling sounds of the piano. It was insanely fun, and I'd forgotten how fun dancing was until I was up on the stage again, the light shining down. It was just me and the stage now. I couldn't hear anything else; the music just flowed through me.

The second it was over, the noise came back to me in a rush and my eyes focused on the cheering boys and the smile Diana gave me, and I realized I was smiling, too. It was different, and I'd never actually had that happen before in my life. Well, it had, just in different ways.

Diana and I curtsied again and then ran off the stage to get changed. I pulled the pins from my hair, letting it fall in waves down my back. I wiggled out of the hideous ballet costume and into my boy's clothes that Jack had lent me a long time ago, when I first met them, when I was still reeling from my past.

I had sat quietly at dinner all night, eating my meat and sipping my milk like a good girl. Daddy didn't look at me, and I wasn't sure if that scared me or relieved me. Only my best friend Sean knew why being around my Daddy bothered me. Only he cared enough to know.

Diana pulled me from my thoughts with her hand, literally. "Come on. I'm dying to be praised," she informed me and I allowed myself to be pulled through the crowd of joyful newsies, over to the table of Manhattaners who were all smiles.

Jack stood first and hugged us both, one long arm wrapping around each of our shoulders. I laughed. "Great job, ladies!" he turned, arms still around our shoulders, to face a boy sitting next to Race that I had never seen before in my life. He had blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. "See, Spotty. Toldja these was me girls," he said smugly.

Oh, Jack and his pride.

The boy he spoke to smirked up at his and I glanced away. Diana looked completely at ease, just leaned into Jack as usual. Was I really the only one left breathless by this boy?

"Looks like it. For now," the boy said.

Diana laughed. "Spot, you go through girls faster than Jack goes through sellin' his papes!" she said, teasing in her voice. "That's bad, by the way."

The boy – Spot? – shrugged lightly. "Girls bore me."

It only took three words to turn me off. So he's that type, I thought. I made a very large mental note to avoid him at all costs. I didn't need to be tangled up in heartache. I still wanted to make it until I was eighteen.

We sat down again at the table and Race slid whisky shots over to Di and I, who downed them instantly. I was grateful for the delicious burning sensation that slithered down my throat. It felt good.

The three of us sat down and Race pulled out a deck of cards. The guy seemed to have everything necessary in that damn vest of his. He dealt us in and I grabbed the cigarette from Jack's mouth. He smirked at me.

I stared at my cards thoughtfully, keeping my face blank, sadly, everyone else was as well. I couldn't read them.

The pot was raised, high for the newsies standards, but nobody folded. Oh, Jesus, was this going to be good.

Race and Jack both set a card down in exchange for a new one from the deck, but Spot, Di, and I kept ours. I could see the corners of Spot's mouth twitching, so I figured he had a good hand. But I was confident in my own, but I wouldn't be like Spot and give myself away.

Of course, Racetrack slapped his cards down whenever nobody else raised the pot. "Two pair and a whore, kids," he announced, showing us two threes, one of hearts and the other of spades, two fours, hearts and diamonds, and a Queen of spades.

Jack had folded just before this and so did Diana, so she could go get us more shots. Spot and I engaged in a staring contest, trying to decide which one of us would slap their cards down next.

"Ain't gonna matter anyhow," Spot muttered and then slammed his cards down, sitting back with his arms crossed smugly. Oh, God, I think he had more pride than Jack Kelly, and that was just sad.

I was impressed. Spot had played a very good game, aside from the smirking, but I figured the smirk was a permanent part of him.

"Straight," he grinned at me. He had a very impressive hand; I had to give him that. He had a nine, ten and jack of spades, and a queen and king of hearts. Wow, he had a damn good hand.

"I think it is gonna matter," I set my cards down daintily and then grinned. "Nice game, boys."

I had a three fives, spades, clubs and hearts, and two aces, hearts and clubs. Racetrack swore and slapped the table and Jack and Di started laughing. Spot just sort of stared at me. I couldn't tell if he was impressed, or pissed off. I pulled the money towards me, snickering quietly in spite of myself. I downed the whisky in my shot glass and the game began again.

We played four more rounds, Race winning half of them, then Diana won the third, and Spot the last one. I folded twice. Damn two's.

I couldn't count the amount of shots I'd done, but I felt lightheaded and I couldn't play drunk. It would blow everything and I had some nice pocket change that jingled happily as I walked.

Diana was laughing and I was leaning against her. I had no idea how we got to laughing so hard, but Race was talking and it only made us laugh louder. I didn't remember a thing, just that when I opened my eyes again, I was laying in my bed at our house with a splitting headache.


	2. my mouth full of lies

**CHAPTER TWO**

* * *

_And you'll be amazed  
At the secrets I keep  
You'll be amazed  
At my mouth full of lies  
But I'm too afraid to come clean  
Cause my life's the flame in a house of cards _

_~ "House of Cards" by Madina Lake_

* * *

I only slept about five hours in the night, despite my insane hangover and the fact that I was dead tired. I never slept long these days. Not after my father. I got up quietly, dressed in my boys' clothing, snatched my hat and darted quietly out of the house. The Manhattan Lodging House was only a few blocks away, so I jogged there, because running felt good. It felt real.

I grinned, seeing jack sitting outside, smoking a cigarette before the other's got up. "How's it rollin', Jack? Why up so early? It's not like you."

Jack shrugged at me. "Same reason you'se up early. Can't sleep."

I nodded. Jack knew about my issues with insomnia, but he didn't know why. As much as I loved my friends, I don't think I'd ever be able to tell them what Sean knew. Not about my father. No, I never would tell them.

I took the cigarette when he offered it and inhaled thoughtfully. "I'm really glad we stuck around last night. Sometimes I forget what it's like to have friends."

Jack smiled, taking the cigarette from me when I handed it back. "Yeah, you and Spot was getting real cute with each other," he said. I was disgusted. "You two was making eyes at each other all night. Almost as sick as Race and Wicked."

I felt heat flush up my neck. "Spot and I were NOT making eyes at each other, Jack Kelly!" I hissed, flustered as hell.

"Ya right, Angel," Jack readily agreed. "But if ya wasn't making eyes at Spot, then why ya getin' so embarrassed?"

"I ain't embarrassed!"

"An' defensive."

"Jack!"

"Don't worry 'bout it, Angel," Jack said easily. "Lots of girls get worked up 'round Spot. Comes with bein' the most feared newsie in New York. You ain't the first girl to make eyes at the guy."

I glared at the street. "For the last time, Francis Sullivan, I wasn't makin' _eyes_ at Spot."

Jack smiled and ground out his cigarette under his heel and stood up. I jumped up and grabbed his arm. He turned toward me and peered down into my pale green eyes.

"Jack, I mean it. Spot ain't my type. And he don't seem like a nice guy if 'girls bore him' and all," I said.

Jack patted my shoulder and grinned. "He is a nice guy. Just obsessed with Brooklyn. Ya see, girls flock to him 'cause they think that's what he wants. And they like his power. He only goes through wit it tah keep those boys off his back. Trust me, Angel, if he wasn't womanizin' all over the place, them Brooklyn boys wouldn't respect him."

I rolled my eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"_That's_ Brooklyn."

I walked inside the Lodging House and sat down on one of the steps and Jack sat down beside me again.

"So I know you ain't here to talk about Spot," he said, thinking out loud. "So what are ya here for?"

I sighed. "I want to be a newsie, Jack."

Jack burst out laughing and continued to do so for at least ten minutes straight. I don't think he's ever laughed at me like this. Never.

"Are ya quite finished?" I asked quietly, fuming, temper spiking like a fever. "Cause I ain't kiddin'."

He quieted down, still snickering. "Why?" he choked between giggles.

"Because I can't be somethin' I ain't," I said simply.

"What's that?"

I shook my head. "A disgusting, hoity-toity, rich bitch. I can't take it no more, Jack. I ain't good at being rich. Never was."

"What brought this on, Angel?" Jack asked, peering over at me. I sighed.

"Dunno. Guess it's always been in me. I did start on the streets, remember?" I frowned, thinking of my life as a pick pocket.

"Yeah, true. So didja ask Medda yet?" Jack asked.

I frowned again, licking my bottom lip in thought. "No. I wanted to come here and ask you before I talked to her. You don't have to say yes, Jack. I understand if you don't want a girl to be a newsie."

Jack laughed again. "Angel, if any girl could be a newsie, then I'd definitely have to say I'd rather it be you."

I smiled at my hands. "You don't mean that, Kelly, and ya damn well know it."

Jack shook his head and then stood up. "I ain't foolin' with ya, Angel. I want ya to be a newsie with us. It'd be a good thing fer the boys. They ain't used to pretty girls 'round. 'Sides, you'se the toughest girl I know of."

I grinned and leaned back on the stairs. "Good. Then I will ask her. I just wanted to hear you say ya wanted me to come." I stood up and punched him in the shoulder before I walked out of the Lodging House.

"You'se a handful, ya know that, Angel?" he called after me. I jogged to Medda's, smiling the entire time. Well, I didn't really go there first. It was way too early for anyone else to be up.

I grabbed a roll and an apple for breakfast with my handsome pocket change I'd gratefully borrowed from the boys last night. I sat on the street corner, leisurely, since I was trying hard to kill time until I knew Medda would be at Irving Hall.

I got up when I started hearing cries of "Extra, extra!" and walked down the block to Irving Hall, still eating my apple.

"Lissa!" Medda cried and darted down the stairs from the stage over to me. Irving Hall was huge when it wasn't filled with attractive newsboys. "Darling, why are you here? You have school now."

I sighed. "Medda, there's something I have to tell you," I said, sitting on the stage, while Medda followed. "I want to be a newsie, Medda. I can't… live rich anymore. It's just not me. And I can't pretend anymore."

Medda untied my hair from the cord that bound it and stroked my hair. "Lissa, darling, you were never required to stay at my house. All of those girls are so special to me, and I didn't want you living on the streets anymore. Sweetness, you are free to do whatever you wish to, and if you wish to be a newsie, then I say by all means! Just come and visit every once and a while, love."

I smiled, joy replacing my nervousness. "Really?" I shrieked and then jumped up in excitement. "Oh, Medda! Thank you so much!"

Medda smiled and I realized that all my hair had gone everywhere in my excitement and jumping.

"Of course, darling," Medda laughed.

"Wait a minute," I sat back down. "Can I still perform? I still want to dance, Medda. Please, can I still dance?"

Medda smiled. "Of course you can, Lissa. What kind of performer would I be if I stopped you from dancing? Besides, just between you and me, I think you've got natural talent and I wouldn't want to stop that."

I nodded and hugged her so tightly. "Thank you so much, Medda!"

"You're welcome, darling," Medda hugged me back, and I was almost sorry to leave her. She was just like my mother and she hugged just like my mother, so I hugged her a little bit tighter, to make it last.

I darted down the center aisle and stopped when Medda called my name again. I turned in the doorway and smiled.

"Tell Jack Kelly he needs to come and see me soon!" she called and then waved after me as I darted out of Irving Hall. I pushed myself down the street, darting around vendors and snobby couples walking down the street.

Well, until I collided with a giant wall of muscle. I fell backwards onto the dusty sidewalk and rubbed my head. My hair was still out.

"Well, damn it that hurt," I hissed and rubbed my head. It felt like my brain had rattled inside my skull and that hurt like hell.

"Watch where you're going, little girl," a voice above me said. I peered up into the morning sunlight, the man silhouetted by the sun so I couldn't see him.

I pushed myself up, rubbing my head again as I stared at a very ugly boy. "I am not a little girl," I informed him, and then frowned. "But you're very ugly."

The guy put his hands on his hips and an equally ugly guy came up behind him. The newcomer grinned, showing off hideous teeth. I wrinkled my nose.

"Well, well," the newcomer said. "What have we here?"

I crossed my arms. "We have two very, very ugly brothers. And a pissed off girl. That's three people, in case you can't count."

The guy smirked. "Such a smart girl. I like 'em with a little fight in 'em," he stepped around his brother and attempted to touch my hair when I did something stupid.

I got defensive instantly. Nobody was allowed to touch me. I pulled my fist back and pushed him as hard as I could, which sent him reeling backwards into his brother. I took off running again, wanting to get to Central Park. I knew Jack would be there. And I was right. I rounded the corner and saw the cowboy himself hawking headlines like a champ.

"Jack!" I shouted, to get his attention.

He looked over, eyes wide. "Angel, what the hell—" he started before I plowed right into him. Jack was much more musclular so when I ran right into him, it didn't exactly feel like a picnic. He spun slightly, arms tight around me, to get my body to stop moving at such a high pace. "What the hell?" he exclaimed.

"The… boys… I…" I panted and then pointed to where I'd come from. I wasn't afraid, I just wasn't really sure how to get rid of them. Well, all right. I was terrified. I didn't need flashbacks of my father. Not now.

Jack looked up and grinned, his arms moving around my waist. If he wasn't my frined, I would've decked him right there. He leaned down to my ear. "Just play along, all right? I got this."

The guys came up to us, the one I'd punched had a split lip and it was bleeding. I grinned quietly against Jack's chest.

"Heya, Cowboy," the vulgar one addressed Jack. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"So you two'se were chasin' my girl, eh?" Jack grinned and pulled me tighter. "Ain't good to mess with a man's girl."

"Who says we was chasin' her?" the vulgar one's brother asked at the same time the other said "She ain't no girl. She's an animal."

Jack grinned. "Well, I figure since Oscar's got a split lip and her knuckles are bleedin' that you tried sweet talkin' her and she punched ya like ya deserved. Ain't nobody sweet talks my girl."

The two hideous brothers looked at each other. They were getting nervous, and I probably wasn't the only one that was thrilled by that.

"So, you wanna get a black eye to go along with that lip?" Jack asked. The boys ran away so fast that I nearly burst out laughing. Jack let me go and I smiled up at him.

"You are a handful, ya know that?" Jack peered down at me, leaning down to grab his fallen papers that had scattered around his feet when I'd attacked him.

"Sorry. Just didn't know how to deal with them," I said. I didn't want him to know that I had been afraid of being touched by guys I didn't know.

Jack nodded and then ruffled my hair playfully. "Well, either way, they'se gone now. And since your here, ya can help me sell. If you'se gonna be a newsie, that is."

I nodded and then took some of Jack's papes. I walked to the other end of the block and looked at page three, where the best headlines usually were. Three was my favorite number. Three's company. Three's a crowd. Three is the number of completeness. It was a good number.

The headline was: 'Mayor Buys New Summer House For Cheap'

I smiled and stared shouting a better headline. "Mayor using tax payer's money to fund his endeavors! Find out how your money is being used!" I shouted. Drawing handfuls of people here and there.

It wasn't the best headline idea, but it sold the twenty papes I'd took from Jack's usual hundred. It took longer than I expected, which was weird. But I walked back to Jack, grinning with coins in my hand.

"How was the headline today?" Jack hugged me with one arm.

I peered up at him, pulling from memory the comment he made years ago when I first starting hanging out with them. "Headlines don't sell papes, Jack. Newsies sell papes."


	3. i see you all over me

**CHAPTER THREE**

* * *

_In my head, I see you all over me._  
_In my head, you fulfill my fantasy._  
_Youll be screaming no._  
_In my head, its going down._

_~ "In My Head" by Jason Derulo_

* * *

I was completely moved out of the house before nightfall, not that it mattered. I didn't have much to get. I left all my good dresses there. Didn't need to look pretty to be a newsie. When I reached the Manhattan Lodging House, the younger newsies flocked to me since they were so happy to see me, I supposed. Jack said I could have any empty bunk upstairs and I found one pushed up against the far wall, my favorite kind.

I set my things down and sat down as well, sighing. Snipeshooter came up and sat down beside me, smiling happily. "Does this mean you're gonna stay with us, Angel?"

I nodded and slapped the brim of his hat affectionately, making him readjust it with a laugh. "Looks like you boys is stuck with me."

Snipe and I walked back down the steps to the other boys and Jack pulled me down on the sofa beside him.

"Well, Angel, ya need a party of some sort," he announced. "Can't be a newsie without havin' a party about it. Brooky's throwing a shindig tonight, so we'll probably go there. Whaddya say, doll?"

I nodded, trying to contain my angst about going to Brooklyn. I really didn't want to go and see the smirky, attractive(NOT!), arrogant leader. I'd had quite enough to do with him. I could've lived my entire life without knowing him, and I could have been a very effective newsie because of it. But, no. Fate likes to stink. And Jack wanted to go to Brooklyn.

"All right. Yeah. When do I ever turn down a chance to party with you boys?" I grinned.

And so it began.

We all flocked to Brooklyn right before it got dark and the party was all ready in full swing. Someone had brought beer, someone else had brought girls, and it was a full on party. I had to hand it to Brooklyn. When they do something, they go full out with it. _They don't half-ass things here,_ I thought.

Before us Manhattaners melded into the party, Jack made everybody shut up so he could talk. Even Spot, who was sitting in the corner playing cards with some Brooklynites waved so his boys would know it was all right to listen to Jack. Oh, the ego.

"Listen up, boys! This here is Angel, and she's our newest recruit. So let's show her a good time! Newsies style!" he shouted and cheers erupted as the party went back in order.

A boy who was a head taller than me came up to me and I recognized him as one of the boys who hung around Spot a lot. Possibly a right-hand man. Or so I thought. He was half a head taller than Spot, give or take, but I was assuming still. He had mousy brown hair that looked incredibly soft and hazel eyes that looked almost yellow.

He spit in his hand and held it out to me. "Welcome to the newsies, doll. I'se Silver."

I smiled, spit in my own hand and shook his hand firmly. "Thanks. I'm Angel."

"Yeah, no kiddin'," he laughed and it embarrassed me in a way I couldn't understand. I think he just said I was an angel.

I was handed a bottle of beer and I was passed between newsies, dancing my heart out. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time, which was pretty sad. I couldn't remember how many beers I'd had, nor did I care. Jack wanted me to party and I damn well was not going to argue with that.

I felt warmth on my neck and, since I was drunk, I didn't pay attention to why there was warmth there. I felt myself being pulled somewhere and I heard myself giggling, but it sounded odd. I didn't giggle. Ever.

I thought I was leaning up against a wall, trying to regain my bearings when I looked up into impossibly silver-blue eyes and a smirking mouth.

"Damn it," I muttered. "Why can't ya just go away?"

I couldn't tell if he was surprised or amused by my reaction to him. "Sorry. I asked ya to follow me, and ya did."

"I'm _drunk_," I muttered.

"Doll, you're almost trashed," he informed me.

I leaned up against him, irritated that I'd actually run into him. I don't even remember the whole following him thing. I didn't care to. I probably didn't want to, with all the giggling and all. I must have looked like a nut.

"Don't feel bad, doll," he murmured against my ear. "Happens to the best of us."

I sighed. "Quit doin' that," I said softly.

"Doin' what?"

"Seducing me."

"You think that's what I'm doin'?"

"Well ain't ya?"

"Not yet." He leaned into my ear again and bit my earlobe. I think I blushed. "Now I'se seducin' ya."

I looked up at him slowly, light eyes shining in the dark room. I didn't even know where we were. I didn't care.

"Kiss me," I mumbled.

And he did. Oh, boy, did he.

His mouth was on mine, but it wasn't still. His mouth moved on mine. It was a horrible, dizzying, stop-the-world-I-want-to-get-off kind of kisses. My back pressed against the wall and he pressed into me, hands gripping my elbows as if I would either sock him or try to push him away. I think he wanted to kiss me. Or was that my imagination?

But I didn't want him to kiss me. No, I didn't. He was the cocky, jerk-face Brooklyn leader with so much ego, it could fill the state of New York and then some. Oh, no, I didn't want to kiss him at all.

Stupid thing was, I _was_ kissing back. His tongue invaded my mouth and something warm flooded my stomach, because he tasted like mint and tequila. Oh, God, was he delicious. I was almost sorry I'd thought so badly of him before. But now, pressed against this wall, in this dark room, with Spot's tongue in my mouth, I was almost starting to like him.

Until he pulled away.

I leaned into him, forehead resting on his collarbone, panting like a dog. God, I was such a disgrace. How could I let him get under my skin this way? It was only a kiss. It was just one little kiss.

So why did I feel so… smug when I heard him breathing heavily against my shoulder?

I swallowed against my dry throat, heart pounding in my ears. "Thought girls bored you," I whispered.

His warm hands still held my elbows and I didn't want him to let go. I wanted to feel his skin on mine. It felt good.

"Mmm," he sighed, his face buried against my shoulder. He didn't deny it, or agree.

I think that was the worst part.

I wormed out of Spot's grasp, but he didn't protest, just leaning against the wall where I'd previously been. I stumbled down the stairs, embarrassed and ashamed. I wiggled through all the people and out of the Lodging House, a little surprised to see Silver sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

I sat down beside him. I thought about crying, but that never did any good. And no tears would come. Silver handed me his cigarette and I inhaled gratefully while he spoke.

"I'm sorry for whatever Spot said to ya," he said quietly, and I wondered if Silver noticed how swollen my mouth was, if he could smell Spot in my clothes. I didn't dare lick my lips. I didn't want to taste Spot. "He ain't a bad guy. Really, he ain't. Just doin' what he knows."

I wasn't surprised that Silver knew. He seemed like the most sensible Brooklynite there. I don't even think he'd taken a drink of beer. He seemed like a very intelligent boy, and that surprised and impressed me, especially since he was a newsie.

"Yeah, you're right. He's real good at shitting with girls' heads," I muttered. "One day he says that girls bore him, the next his kissin' ya like nobody's business. I don't understand."

"Never said he wasn't an asshole sometimes," Silver smiled when I handed the cigarette back. "Jus' not a bad guy. He's a great leader, and a damn good fighter when it comes to things he cares 'bout. And he's loyal like a damn dog. Jus'… not so great with the ladies."

"I disagree. Apparently half of New York City wants him. That includes boys," I said, frowning into the dark street.

"Yeah, you're right," Silver smiled again. "That don't mean he gives a damn 'bout 'em. Angel, ya see, Spot's nevah found nobody different. All the goils he's been wit' have been the same. They just like his power, they like the fact that everybody knows him, because if they know him, then they know the goils."

"That's horrible," I said softly.

"An' he only goes through with puttin' up with them goils because the Brooklyn boys is a tough crowd. If Spot ain't doin' what's expected of him as King of Brooklyn, ain't nobody gonna respect him."

"Jack said the same thing," I said softly. "Then why did he kiss me? What if I'm just like those other girls he can't stand? I don't want to be on the list of girls that bored Spot."

Silver laughed. "Angel, I don't think you'se ever make that list. You got spunk, girlie. And that ain't somethin' that comes 'round often. You ain't no baby."

I rolled my eyes. "How would you know?"

"I have a gift. I can read people," Silver elbowed me and smiled, handing me his cigarette again. I inhaled gratefully. "'Sides, never heard him talk so much about a goil in me life."

I choked on my cigarette, eyes wide. "He was talkin' about me?" I didn't want to be pleased. I really didn't want to be pleased. But I couldn't help the surge of pride that ran through my body.

"The damn kid wouldn't shuddup about ya. God, nevah heard he blab on like that in me life," Silver laughed, remembering. "And believe me, Angel, if there's one thing the King never does, it's ramble. But Jesus did he ramble last night!"

I grinned quietly to myself. "Thanks, Silver. I think I needed to hear that," I said, handing the cigarette back to him. He took one last drag before throwing it across the street. He stood up and pulled me to my feet.

"Come on, Angel. Let's go play cards," he offered and I nodded.

But before we reached the door, I grabbed his arm to stop him. "Silver, if ya don't mind my askin', how do ya know so much about Spot?" I asked.

"Well," Silver said, putting on a thoughtful face. "I gotta know. I'se his second-in-command."


	4. and i'll survive, paranoid

**CHAPTER FOUR**

* * *

_I will not bow, I will not break_  
_I will shut the world away_  
_I will not fall, I will not fade_  
_I will take your breath away_  
_And I'll survive, paranoid_  
_I have lost the will to change  
__And I am not proud, cold-blooded fake_  
_I will shut the world away_

_~ "I Will Not Bow" by Breaking Benjamin_

* * *

I woke up the next morning, earlier than any of the rest of them, like usual. I crept to the wash room and scrubbed my face, then ran a brush through my hair before I stuffed it under my hat. Even Kloppman wasn't awake yet. I snuck down the stairs and out into the street, darting around buildings in search of breakfast.

Old habits died hard, since I found an open air cart with apples in it. I snitched two off the top and then bolted full speed down the street to a bread shop that was open early. I trotted inside, bought myself a nice size roll with the extra cash I still had on me, leaving enough for lunch later and my papes, of course.

I sat down on the curb, eating my 'breakfast' and thinking about being a newsie. It was a better life than being a pick pocket for sure. Being a newsie, I never had to watch my back or worry about being caught doing something bad. As a pick pocket, I constantly worried about everything. It was part of the job.

But as a newsie, I was free. I could sell papes for as long as I wanted, grab some lunch, and then sell the rest after. I never really worried about money, since I was pretty good at poker and if worse came to worse, I could always pick a pocket just for old times' sake. I hadn't done it in a long time, since I lived with Medda and the other dancers in the lap of luxury.

I pulled my cap off and rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand, watching the sun rise before I replaced my cap and started heading back to the Lodging House. The boys were tumbling out by the time I got there and I fell in step with Jack.

"So am I sellin' with anybody today?" I asked him and Race slung his arm around my shoulders.

"Ya can sell with me, doll," Race grinned.

"First of all, I ain't you're doll, Racetrack," I shoved his arm off of me and grinned. "And second, that sounds good. The tracks, yeah?"

Race laughed and put his arm back around me. "Yeah, Angel. The tracks."

We all skipped off to the Distribution Office, messing around outside the gates before they opened, until the two boys I'd, sadly, caught up with yesterday shoved through the other newsies, glaring at us like we were scum from the pond in Central Park. I wrinkled my nose.

"Dear me. What is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewer may have backed up durin' the night," Race said. I elbowed him and grinned.

"Too rotten to be the sewers," Boots put in.

"It must be the Delancy bruddahs," Crutchy laughed, and it made me smile.

"Hiya boys!" Race greeted them. They took one look at me and then Oscar turned to Snipeshooter.

"In the back, ya lousy little shrimp," he said, and pushed the younger boy to the ground. Jack was right on it, pulling him to his feet and giving him a pat on the back.

"Ya shouldn't be calling people lousy little shrimps, Oscar. Unless you're referrin' to the family resemblance in your brother here," he said, a definite insult. It took all my power not to laugh.

"Hey! Five to one that Cowboy skunks 'em! Who's bettin'?" Race called.

The newsies waved him off, and it made me laugh. Oh, Race, the avid bettor. I put my arm around his shoulders, watching the action.

"That's right. It's an insult," Jack said, getting into Morris' face. "So's this!" He then knocked Morris' hat off and took off running. Every newsie cheered. I tried following him with my eyes, but I lost him. Until he came running back and the newsies around him patted his shoulder and congratulated him. Until the Delancy's pushed through and shoved Jack, causing him to hold Oscar while Morris tried to punch him. It was the funniest thing I'd ever seen.

Until they got scared and let him go. I followed Racetrack who was blubbering after Jack like a girl. "You're too kind to me, Race. Too kind," Jack said, and Race snickered.

We all got our papes and I sat down next to Race, who was 'perusing the merchandise' and I leaned over to read his paper. Jack and this new kid David were talking but I didn't pay them much attention. Race and I got up as everyone was heading out.

We headed for Sheepshead, talking and hawking headlines as we went. It was a lot of fun. The tracks were great fun. We snuck in with a group of people and stood in the back, cheering louder than any of the others there. Well, until a cop spotted us, and, since we weren't dressed like the others, they assumed we'd snuck in.

"Come on, Angel! Time tah go!" Race pulled my hand and together we ran out of the building, laughing the entire way. We ducked into an alley and hid behind some boxes until we were sure the Bulls had exhausted every possible way we could have escaped and then given up.

Grinning, we headed back to Sheepshead, but I wasn't coming with him this time. I was starving after all that running.

"If ya see Jack, tell him I won't be back till late. Got a hot tip," Race grinned.

I nodded. "Will do. Thanks for the fun, Race."

We hugged and I took my remaining papes and shuffled down the street, hawking headlines as I headed towards Tibby's to get some lunch. Thankfully, I sold them all before I got there, grinning as I waved hello to the Manhattaners present. I ordered myself a roast beef sandwich with everything on it, chips and a big mug of root beer to wash it down. I was so hungry.

I sat down with Mush, Kid Blink, and Skittery as they regaled the day's events to me, telling funny stories to make me laugh. I told them about the trip Race and I had down at Sheepshead and running from the Bulls who caught us and chased us around. I inhaled my sandwich and most of my chips, nearly gulping the root beer down all at once.

The boys just stared at me.

"Jesus, girl, you can put that food away," Blink grinned at me and then stole a chip. I grinned in delight.

"Not my fault you boys ain't used to seeing a girl eat," I said simply, pulling my cap off. It was actually pretty hot in that restaurant.

I got up after a while, but I didn't go with them back to the Lodging House. Instead, I told them I was going for a walk and headed off down the street, cap replaced on my head, hiding my hair. I walked to Central Park, the only place I knew I would be safe to think.

I never liked thinking. Thinking made me relive the life I'd left in Ireland. The memories that I wanted to leave there in the rich dark earth and the green grass. The memories of Sean and all the fun we had together, the memories of my heavy-handed father and his foul words and even fouler touch, the memories of my mother and how she never looked at me the same. She looked upon me like I was an insect to be squashed out of sight so she wouldn't need to deal with the pain of what her husband was doing in the middle of the night to his only daughter.

Oh, no. I didn't like thinking at all.

I sat down on a bench near the pond in the middle, watching the ducks waddling along, quacking happily, no cares in sight. Birds were very good animals. Steadfast and true. I liked them best.

I looked up when two rich adolescents passed my park bench, her arm hooked in his and she giggled at everything the boy said to her. It was a shock, really. Not many girls got to marry boys of their own age. Being around the rich upper crust of New York, I knew that bright and early.

Maybe that's why I didn't want to stay in that sort of life. I wanted to marry someone I was in love with. Someone like…

But, I couldn't. Sean was dead. I knew that. It was stupid to hold out hope for something that never would happen. Six years was a long time to hold out, and I'd learned early on that it was easier to just assume he was dead somewhere then think he may still be out there somewhere, maybe even in New York City. But it was stupid, and I was not going to be a stupid girl. Not anymore.

The two lovers had a chaperone, of course, but paid her no mind. They were completely wrapped up in themselves. He even stopped under an ancient oak tree to kiss her cheek, which made her smile up at him. I looked away, feeling bad for watching them. I stood up and wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, shuffling away to find another spot.

I sat down in the grass, far away from the bench, and watched a happy family of four settled down nearby, the husband holding a blanket and the wife holding a wicker basket. The man smoothed a blanket on the ground, the two small children climbing on easily. The mother scolded them playfully but sat down, handing out pre-wrapped sandwiches to each of the children, along with a wrapped bowl of fresh fruit.

The wife sat down next to her husband, sharing a kiss with him while they ate, the children playing in between bites of sandwich and fruit. I hugged my knees and sighed, pulling my cap off, no longer wanting to hide under it. I got up slowly, brushing grass from my pants. I shuffled down the path, past them, and out of the park.

I wandered around Manhattan, happy to be alone. I decided that thinking was stupid, so I forced my mind to stop thinking. Not the easiest thing to do. I needed someone to talk to. I needed Diana.

I found my feet took me to the giant house that used to be my home. I knocked on the door and waited until the butler came to answer the door.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked me, trying hard to hold in his disgust for me, but I could hear it.

I wrung the hat in my hands nervously. Why was I so nervous?

"I, uhm, was looking for Diana. May I speak to her?" I asked. "I am… an old friend."

He looked down his nose at me. "May I inform her as to who is calling up on her?" he asked.

"Lissa," I answered, flinching internally at the name. I never much cared for it.

I stepped in when he motioned me in and sat down in the parlor, waiting for the butler to inform the maid of my presence, the go upstairs to tell Diana about me. I waitied until a beautiful girl with mouse-brown ringlets and bright ocean blue eyes, dressed in her best blue gown, entered the parlor.

"Lissa?" Diana took a double take at me. I wondered how foolish I must have looked in my disgusting clothes against the day-couch in the parlor of this posh house.

I stood up and smiled nervously. "I'm sorry for calling so late. I must talk to you, Di," I said, and wondered if she heard the desperation that crept into my voice.

Diana nodded and then smiled. "Of course," she said, surprised. "Mary!" she called to the parlor maid. "My dear friend and I require tea and how about a platter of buttermilk scones, jam and fruit, please?"

I blushed slightly and sat down again, while Diana came and sat beside me. She took my hand affectionately and smiled at me.

"This must be a big deal, if you are coming here to speak with me," she said softly. Oh, how I loved that she knew me so well!

"Yes, it is," I confessed, glancing away. "Diana, it's about a boy."

"Jack?" she guessed and I felt my eyes widen in shock.

"What?" I exclaimed. "No! No, it's not Jack. God, no."

She rattled off some of the Manhattan newsies that she knew were my friends and I shook my head at every single name.

"Well, that's all the people I can think of," Diana said, looking up when Mary brought back the platter of food, setting it on the table before us. We both reached for a cut strawberry.

I waited for her brain to catch up with her. She'd figure out who I was talking about. She was a smart girl. She really was.

"Wait a moment," Diana said. _Wow, that took much less time than I thought it would. _"It's not… is it?"

I popped the strawberry fourth into my mouth and nodded. "I'm afraid it is."

"Damn it, Lissa," Diana swore, hitting her palm to her forehead in exasperation. "Do you know how horrible this is? Do you know how horrible Spot is? He's not a good person. He's cold, and heartless, and a complete and utter jerk, Lissa. Do you understand that?"

I nodded, frowning. "I have an idea, yes."

Diana's shoulders slumped. "You've kissed him, haven't you? Oh, Lissa."

"I didn't mean for it to happen, Diana," I defended myself. "I was drunk. I followed him and he kissed me."

Diana dipped a piece of her scone into a small dish of strawberry jam. "Lissa, I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation you've put yourself in. Spot Conlon is the most famous newsie in all of New York City, and that's all he is. He IS Brooklyn."

_Conlon? That's Sean's last name… But it couldn't be him. It just couldn't._

"I know that, too, Di. I just don't know what to do," I confessed. "Trust me, Jack gave me the whole thing 'bout Spot all ready. It's really hard. I guess I'm just falling for what I think he could be."

"A lot of girls do, Lissa. It's not just you," Diana touched my arm affectionately. "But, you know, I think you could give Brooklyn a run for his money. You're not like all the other girls that chase him. You've got a mouth, and a brain, that work together. You're beautiful, and you know it, and so does New York. If he kissed you, then he noticed, too. Beer doesn't kill everything. I'm certain he noticed how beautiful you are."

I nodded. "Silver said that night at the Hall, after we left, that Spot wouldn't stop talking about me. That's a good sign, right?"

Diana smiled and I couldn't figure out why. "Yes, Lissa. That's a very good sign. Who knows? Maybe you _will_ turn that boy around. You do have such a way of bringing out the best in people, Lissa O'Rourke."

That, more than anything, made me smile.


	5. press your lips to the sculptures

**CHAPTER FIVE**

* * *

_Warn your warmth to turn away,_  
_Here it's December, everyday_  
_Press your lips to the sculptures,_  
_And surely you'll stay._  
_For of sugar and ice, __I am made._

_~ "Love Like Winter" by AFI_

* * *

I had stayed in Manhattan for nearly a week or so, never giving Brooklyn, or their attractive leader that I may or may not have feelings for, another thought. I worked hard perfecting my selling techniques, selling with Blink or Mush and Skittery, or Race. I woke up early every morning, as usual, my routine pounding into the ground. I saw Diana sometimes on the street, with some other rich girls. She waved at me shamelessly and I waved back. It was good to have a friend like her.

After selling by myself one day, I walked back to the Lodging House with an apple I'd snitched from a cart. I nearly dropped the half eaten fruit when I saw a dirty blond haired boy with a cane at his side talking to Jack. I sighed loudly.

"How's it rollin', boys?" I asked cautiously, feeling like I was walking intently and unabashed into a well-placed trap with grinning, blood-thirsty hunters waiting in the wings.

Jack smiled at me, but I noted, it was forced with the weight of his nervousness. I wondered if it was obvious on my face of my distaste for the attractive boy that had been talking to Jack.

"Heya, Angel," Jack greeted me tensely. "We gotta talk to ya, doll."

I sat down quietly on the couch at the landing of the stairs, chomping on my apple and staring at them from under my hair. Jack explained to me that he'd feel better if I would learn how to fight properly, since he'd been thinking about the run-in with the Delancy's the first day of me being a newsie. It worried him and he was only looking out for my well-being. He didn't want me dead in an alley somewhere.

"Because, ya know, Angel, ya got a big mouth. And it's gonna get ya in trouble one day. And ya gotta be able to look aftah yerself," Jack explained.

I frowned. "I know how to defend myself, Jack Kelly. I ain't stupid. I learn fast. Besides, you of all people should know that. I worked the streets for almost a year before I went to live with Medda," I informed him.

Jack sighed. "Angel, please don't be difficult."

I stood up. "No. I will be difficult. This is ridiculous. Why all of a sudden do I gotta learn?" I demanded. "And why is _he_ here?" I jabbed my finger in the direction of Spot, who physically smirked at my temper, which didn't help.

"Well, Angel…" Jack started, looking sheepish.

I frowned. "Oh, no. _No._ Jack Kelly!" I stomped my foot like an insolent child and then crossed my arms, glaring at him. I would not have some haughty, arrogant bastard from Brooklyn, who may or may not have the most amazing mouth I'd ever had against mine, teach me how to fight. It was just… _wrong_. And painful.

"Angel, ya learn to fight in Brooklyn, you can survive anywhere," Spot spoke for the first time at this exchange, and my shoulders slumped. There was no worming out of this. I would have to go, but I was going to hate it.

I sat back down in defeat. "How long?"

"At least a week," Jack said, and that didn't make me feel better.

"Jacky says you'se smart, Angel, but if ya can't learn in a week, then I ain't teachin' ya no more. I ain't got time to teach little girls how to fight," Spot said, the arrogance steeling his words.

I wanted to slap him, but he probably had lost count of the amount of girls who'd slapped him, and I wasn't about to give him the pleasure of knowing he pissed me off.

"You probably want to go now, yeah?" I muttered.

"Wasn't plannin' on stayin' here all night, if that's what ya mean," Spot said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. I clenched my fists in annoyance but stood up without a word and walked upstairs.

I didn't have much to bring with me. I had an extra set of clothes, my tiny music box that held my most precious things, a few hair ties, and my sock filled with the little money I did have. I packed everything up in a little knapsack, stuffing my hat in with my belongings. I didn't feel like wearing it anymore, and the feeling of my hair against my back was comforting. It was the one thing my father hadn't stolen from me.

I trotted back down the steps and crossed my arms. "Let's go and get this over with."

Jack put his hand on my shoulder and I almost bit him. "You'se a fast learner, Angel. You'll be back in no time."

I rolled my eyes. "Go swing on it, Kelly," I muttered and then sighed.

"That's me girl," he hugged my shoulders and kissed my head. He then shoved me towards the door. "Now go play nice with Spot."

I turned around to glare one last time at him and then stalked out of the Lodging House, walking with Spot out of my home and onto the Brooklyn Bridge. Thankfully, he didn't feel the need to speak to me, which suited me fine. I was fuming still, and I didn't need my mouth getting me in trouble with Spot. Well, not yet.

I stopped when Spot thrust his cane out, hitting the other side of the Bridge, preventing me from walking. I frowned at this and then up at him. "Move," I hissed.

"Nah, we gotta lay some rules, Angel," Spot said, turning to face me. My eyebrows rose.

"Are you kidding me? I ain't a baby," I told him.

"Yeah, but you're a brat with a loud mouth and no respect for nobody," Spot said, not missing a beat. "And ya can't be like that in Brooklyn. Unless ya don't value your pretty face."

I crossed my arms. "What are your rules, Mister Conlon?" I hissed.

"First of all, ya better swallow that attitude ya got before I soak it outta ya," Spot stared right into my eyes and I stared back. "Brooklyn ain't no place for attitudes. Second, ya do what I say. Period. Don't fight wit me. I actually know what I'm talkin' 'bout."

"Anything else, O Mighty King?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, ignoring my smart mouth. "Put your hat back on. Trust me, Angel. If you'se a girl, they won't leave ya alone. It'll jus' be easier."

I pulled my hat from my bag and stuffed my hair back into it. Once he was satisfied, Spot pulled the cane back and we walked down across the shipping docks. Silver was sitting atop a crate throne, lounging back, smoking easily, blowing smoke into the sky. He was possibly the most well-dressed newsie I had ever met. His clothes were always very clean and neat. It amazed me.

"Heya, Silver. Whaddya say?" Spot called to him. Silver smiled, eyes closed for a moment before he slid down easily and the two friends spit-shook.

"Heya, Spot. Back so soon?" Siler glanced at me, smiling again. "Who's the kid? Jack dump him on ya or somethin'?"

Spot glanced over at me and I nearly rolled my eyes. "Somethin' like that, yeah. Kelly wants me to teach him to fight."

"Won't be hard. Kid looks tough," Silver smiled at me again. "What's your name, kid?"

"Poker," I said gruffly, spit in my hand and then held it out to him. I was supposed to be a boy, and I felt stupid trying to act like one. Most everybody just assumed I was a boy when they first met me, and I never bothered to correct them. The Manhattaners had learned over time that I was girl, but I hadn't once told them.

Silver obliged me and shook my hand. "Nice to meetcha, kid. Hopefully Conlon didn't scare ya too bad 'bout Brooky."

I rolled my eyes. "Not at all. Spot's a real good host," I said.

Silver laughed and it made Spot smirk beside me, but he wiped it off quickly. I was thrilled.

"I like this kid already," Silver grinned and then slung his arm around my shoulders. "Come one, let's find ya somewheres to sleep."

"Silver," Spot said, before we even started walking away. "My room. If ya don't mind."

Silver tipped his hat to his friend and then steered me into the giant Lodging House nearby. He led me up the steps and all the way into the back where there was an enclosed room apart from the others. Of course.

"Why does the King want me to sleep in his room?" I asked Silver. He shut the door behind us, just in case.

"Because you'se a girl, Angel. If any of dthese boys finds dat out, you ain't gonna get any sleep here. Trust me," Silver said, motioning to an empty cot nearby. I set my stuff down on it, and then pushed it against the wall.

"What's so bad about them finding out I'm a girl?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of the cot.

"The boys here ain't like Manhattan. Jack's boys respect ya. Most of the newsies here ain't gonna respect ya. They see ya as an object to be conquered. It ain't good for ya."

"Spot sees me the same way," I said, confused and annoyed. "Why should it be any different?"

Silver laughed. "Ya underestimate yaself too much, Angel," he scolded me. "Spot sees ya like an annoying insect that he likes too much to get rid of completely. But ya'd never here him say that. Ruin his image, ya know?"

I rolled my eyes. "That's real stupid, Silver."

"Maybe, but it's true."

I sighed slightly in annoyance, but didn't say anything more. I was tired of talking about Spot and his complex emotions and indecisiveness. It was giving me a headache.

"Ya hungry at all, Angel?" Silver asked, after a while.

I nodded. "Yeah. Fighting with Spot and walking to Brooklyn really make me hungry," I said, half kidding and half serious.

Silver nodded and stood up, pulling me up with him. "Well, come on, then. Let's see if the King wants to tag along."

In the end, he did want to tag along, so I walked in the middle of the two of them, wondering where we were going to eat. A few blocks down, we came to what looked like a bar and we walked inside. A bunch of scary looking guys looked up from playing pool to glare at us. Out of instinct, I inched closer to Silver, who put a protective hand on the middle of my back.

Spot muttered something to the bartender and we all sat down at a table near the middle, away from the scary guys playing pool. I didn't like feeling out of place, but I felt extremely out of place here. I ignored Spot and Silver as they discussing Brooklyn things, occupying myself with ripping my napkin into tiny strips. Our food came and I ate without thinking. I didn't care what it was. It was food, either way.

"Hey Angel," Silver said, probably trying to get my attention. I was lost in my own little world.

"What?" I asked, my mouth full of food.

"I'm gonna teach ya to fight for the week. I'se the best at it," he said, to which Spot smirked.

I nodded and took a gulp of water. "Whatever. Just need to get this done, so I can go home."


	6. while there's something left to save

**CHAPTER SIX**

* * *

_So tell me now if this ain't love then how do we get out?_  
_'Cause I don't know_  
_That's when she said "I don't hate you boy_  
_I just want to save you while there's still something left to save."_  
_That's when I told her "I love you girl_  
_But I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have."_

_~ "Savior" by Rise Against_

* * *

I was awoken by a loud noise nearby. I hadn't been sleeping very deeply, but it still made me jump. I pulled from my bed, half dazed. I rubbed my eyes and stared into the wild cat-yellow eyes of Silver.

"Angel, let's go. We've gotta go. Get dressed. Hurry!" he said and I was already pulling my trousers on.

"Whassa mattah?" I slurred, still half-asleep.

"The Bronx. Surprise attack. Come _on_, Angel," Silver pulled me from the dark room and past the half empty bunks in the bunkroom. Most of the younger boys were terrified, the older boys probably out defending Brooklyn.

It was chaos outside. I wondered if Silver had orders to keep me safe. We darted around the large wooden beams until Silver turned around, gripping my elbows.

"Angel, I need ya to hide. Keep outta sight. I'll come getcha when this is over," he instructed.

I shook my head. "Let me help."

"_No_, Angel. Hide. I won't ask ya again. Just do this," he said and I sighed.

He ran off, pulling a switchblade from his trousers that gleamed in the early morning light. I ducked down behind a large clump of crates, covering my mouth with my hand to hold in my heavy breathing. I'd learned that trick early on, hiding from my father.

Boys were fighting everywhere. I couldn't tell which of them were for Brooklyn. I was getting nervous and antsy, just watching the chaos. I wanted to help. I wasn't completely useless, but I would stay here, because it probably was smarter that way.

"Lookie what we got here," a voice said from above me. I fell backward in shock. Two boys stared down at me. I swallowed hard. I wasn't scared, but I wasn't happy to see them either.

Okay, well, maybe I was a little scared.

"Pretty little pet, ain't she?" the second agreed.

I glared at them and pulled my foot back intending to kick them but the first one grabbed my calf and grinned with his hideous yellow teeth down at me.

"Nice try, love. But that'll come in handy later," he leaned down but I didn't give him a chance to try anything. I yanked myself from his grasp and stood up, scrambling up the crates to get away from him. Not my smartest idea, but it would have to do.

"Get down here, ya stupid cow," the first one called after me.

"We jus' wanna play, dollface," the second chimed in.

I knelt down at the top, suddenly aware of how high I was up. It made me nervous. I licked my lips and ran my fingers through my hair, sorry I hadn't grabbed my cap. Stupid hair. It was always getting me in trouble. At least Spot was right about being a girl causing trouble in Brooklyn.

"Angel!" I heard a voice call from down below. It was Silver and Spot. Oh, Jesus, I was so happy to see them.

The two boys attacked the Brooklynites, but it didn't take long for them to fight them off. They made it look easy, but the two disgusting boys took off running.

"Get outta heah ya lazy shits and don't come back!" Spot called after them, irate as hell. I'd never seen him so ticked off.

Silver motioned me down and I slid nervously down the crates to the ground. I hit it hard and felt it in the balls of my feet. I hissed in pain and trembled.

"Are ya all right, Angel? Did they hurt ya?"

I looked up at Spot when he spoke, raising a shaking hand to push the hair from my face. "Yes. I-I'm fine. Thank you," I said, forgetting to be cross with him. I was shaken up.

"Ya hand is cold with sweat, Angel," Silver said, catching my hand in his, frowning.

"Keep ya hands off me!" I said, pulling my appendage back from his grasp. I let out a shuddering sigh. "...Sorry."

Silver helped me to sit down on one of the crates and I placed my head between my knees. I closed my eyes, and breathed in and out, focusing on it, until all the shaking, inside and out, ceased.

Finally I could speak. "Why did they attack you?" I asked, looking up at Spot, who still looked a little testy.

"Found out there was a goil here," he said, the anger in his voice. "Silv, ya gotta light?"

Silver nodded, fished a cigarette and lit a match from the heel of his boot. He handed the lit cigarette to his leader and sat beside me, both of us watching him smoke for a moment before speaking again.

"I'se thinkin' someone here tipped off Old Johnny about ya, Angel," he said, his voice much more calmed. "Came to claim ya for hisself. But I ain't givin' ya up without a fight."

I blinked. "Why? What's so important about having me?"

"It ain't about _havin'_ ya, Angel," Silver said. "It's about takin' what's Spot's. Johnny musta thought ya was Spot's new goil and came to take ya for hisself."

I rolled my eyes. "That's juvenile."

"That's war, Angel," Silver said. "Johnny's always had it out for Spot. Ever since Spot took Brooky a couple a years ago, he's been real cynical about it. Wants to take Brooky for hisself, but we ain't gonna go down without a big ass fight about it. Ain't that right, Spot?"

Spot grinned. "Damn right, Silver." The two friends spit shook and I smiled. I wondered if Spot and Silver had a great friendship like Diana and I had. It was admirable.

"So, which one of 'em was Johnny?" I asked after a moment.

Spot grimaced slightly, and I couldn't imagine why. "THe one that called ya a cow."

I nodded, thinking. Silver smiled. I couldn't understand these strange reactions, only that I wished I could understand. It must be so amusing to know what went on inside each of their heads.

"This only proves that ya need to learn to fight, Angel. Dunno how I'se gonna explain ya to me boys now that they know you'se a goil, but I'll figure it out," Spot said, his voice thick with thought. He inhaled more nicotine, holding it in his lungs.

"Tell 'em ya were bein' selfish," I offered. "Keepin' me to yourself, ya know? Kings _are_ selfish, yeah?"

I leaned back and sighed, looking away. Silver glanced at me and Spot nodded. "Ya know, Angel, ya pretty smart. Fer a goil."

I rolled my eyes and watched him walk away. I sighed and Silver ruffled my hair playfully. "Are ya ticked at him yet?" he asked teasingly.

"Sure am, but it ain't gonna do no good," I stood and grinned at him.

"Why not, Angel? You'se a smart goil," Silver stood up, grinning at me.

"Well, duh, but I ain't shit to him. Not that I expected to be," I said, shrugging. "Just thought there was a heart somewhere deep, _deep_ inside of that ego."

Silver nodded and then laughed. "There is, Angel. Let me know when ya find it, though."

"Don't hold ya breath."

* * *

When it was a more appropriate time, Silver and I traveled to the Distribution Office to get our papers. I was pretty amazed. This side of Brooklyn looked nothing like Manhattan.

"Silver, what makes Brooklyn so tough?" I asked him, as we were walking to Silver's usual corner a ways down.

He looked at me funny. "What makes us tough? What kinda question is that?"

"I was just askin'," I said defensively. "I know it's not just Spot. Why does everyone around feel the need to attack you guys over stupid things like a girl?"

Silver smiled, his eyes leaving the present, as if he were remembering. "Before Brooklyn was Spot's, it was chaos here. Civil war, actually. Nobody had respect for nobody."

"Wasn't there a leader?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. Ace was real cool," Silver nodded. "But he moved on. Married some pretty girl from Staten Island. Had tah get a real job, ya know? That's when things fell apart here. Everybody tryin' to be leader, and it jus' didn't work out too well."

"What about Spot?"

Silver bit his bottom lip, and for a moment he looked so much like a little boy. It was kind of sweet. "He was still real beat up about his friend."

"A friend?"

"Yeah," Silver looked over at me. "He and his best friend came here on a ship together, from Ireland."

I tried to pretend this information didn't bother me. Could it be that Sean was…? But, no. It couldn't be. Spot was so much different than Sean. Much, much different. And the eyes were different colors. Sean's eyes were very blue, not icy. But, maybe… No. It couldn't be. It didn't make sense.

"Oh?" I squeaked.

"Yeah. Took me forever to get that outta him. I was his first friend when he came here from Jack's. He had this real funny key around his neck and he always was playin' wit' it. Told me it was to somethin' real special and his best friend had it with her. Still has it 'round his neck, though. I think he's still waitin' for her."

"His best friend was a girl?" I was finding it hard to think straight. _It couldn't have been me,_ I thought. _But, God, what a coincidence._

"Oh, yeah. Spot was always talkin' about how beautiful she was. It's real funny to think about it, now." Silver laughed. "Spot was real soft back then."

I was disturbed. I was hard to imagine what Sean might look like now. I could hardly remember anymore. But I remembered his eyes. Blue like the sky. Not blue like ice in the winter.

"Oh, and Angel?" Silver stopped walking and I figured this was his spot. "Don't tell Spot I toldja any of this. He'll soak me."

I laughed, trying to shake off my thoughts. "Sure thing, Silver."

We sold all afternoon together, and we didn't talk about Spot anymore. I was glad. I didn't want to think any more about Sean. It bothered me, and I was just happy to think he was dead or elsewhere, and not… alive and being the leader of Brooklyn newsboys.

Once we were done, Silver and I walked back towards the Lodging House. "So, Angel, let's make a wager. If ya do good fightin' taday, I'll buy ya diner. If not, you buy me diner. Deal?" Silver stopped and looked down at me, since I was slightly shorter than him.

"One condition," I said, putting my hands on my hips.

"What's that?"

"Tell me your real name."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Silver sighed. "It's Matthew Harris."

I laughed. "That's it? That ain't a bad name!"

Silver crossed his arms. "What about you, Angel?"

I hesitated, wondering how much Spot told Silver about his best friend that may or may not have been me. "It's… Alyssa. Alyssa O'Rourke."

"That's real pretty, Angel," Silver smiled and then nodded. "So do we gots a deal now?"

"Yep," I spit in my hand and he spit in his and it was a deal.

He found us a secluded place to fight and stood before me, all business now.

"Now then. The first thing ya gotta learn about fightin': keep ya hands eye level. It's easier to hit someobody when ya fists are up. 'Sides, you'se real short, Angel."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Now then, hands up," he said, showing me how with his own fists.

I raised my fists to my eyes, fixing them so they looked like Silver's.

"Nah, not like that," Silver said, taking my fists in his hands. "Keep ya thumbs out. Trust me, it hurts like hell if ya keep 'em tucked and then punch. You'll break ya thumbs, at best."

I nodded and untucked my thumbs. It felt weird, but I would get used to it.

"Good," Silver praised. "Now, the second thing ya gotta know is impact. Ya can't throw a punch without turnin' ya body to the side. Like this," he said and turned sideways, fists raised. "See, now if I punch ya," he motioned with his fist and his knuckles touched my jaw. "It hurts more than it ya don't throw ya body into it."

I nodded, soaking his words up like a sponge. I turned my body, kept my fists raised and looked up at him for approval.

"Good. Now ya gotta learn the best places to punch. And it ain't just the face. Go for the gut, the eyes, the ears, the throat, and the nuts."

"The ears?" I peered up at him, skeptical.

"Angel, the ears is real vital. Don't punch 'em in the ear. Just slap them in the ear. Trust me. Gettin' slapped in ya ear is like losin' ya big toe. It throws ya whole body off. I'm_ serious_," he said, probably to my skeptical roll of the eyes.

"All right," I said. I had no idea, so I had to just trust his words. I didn't like that. Too much leeway to get hurt. But I had to at this point.

"Repeat 'em," Silver said sternly.

I sighed. "The gut, the ears, the throat, the nuts, and… the face. Am I missin' any?" I askd.

Silver nodded. "The eyes."

I sighed again. "Damn. Okay. The nuts, the face, the ears, the eyes, and the gut. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Silver smiled. "The last thing ya gotta know is keep ya mind in it. Don't get pissed and start swingin'. Ya won't last long. Keep ya head in the fight, watch what he's doin' and then fight back. Makes t'ings easier."

I nodded. "Right. Fists up, put you're body into it, hit the right areas and keep ya head in the fight," I recited.

"Good girl," Silver smiled. "Now, punch me."

"What?" My fists dropped in shock. Was he serious?

"Yeah!" Silver grinned. "Ya ain't gonna learn by statin' the facts. Punch me. Gimme ya best, Angel. Come on."

I raised my fists, angled my body correctly and let my fist fly. I gasped in pain when his hand shot up and caught my fist, twisting my arm and effectively rerouting my brain toward the pain shooting in my arm.

"Damn it, let go," I hissed, angrily. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Ya didn't think I was really gonna let ya punch me, didja?" Silver smirked at me and it made me even more angry.

I thrust my other fist at him but he caught that one as well, twisting my arm the same way. I hissed in anger and pain.

"If I let ya go, ya can't punch me, Angel. Let me teach ya," Silver said seriously.

I nodded. "All right. Just let go. This hurts."

He let my wrists go and I rolled my shoulders a little, to get the cramp out. Then I cocked my fist again and let it collide with Silver's jaw. He staggered back in surprise and I shook my hand out, knuckles stinging.

"That's for hurtin' me," I said quietly, rubbing my hand.

Silver laughed, working his jaw back and forth to put it back in place. He had a nice little bruise forming and I was thrilled. I had bruised a boy! With my _fist_!

"Not bad, Angel. Ya got a good hand." Silver didn't looked pissed at me. He looked proud. But it didn't last long.

We were sparring ten seconds later and I came out of it with a nice bruise on my jaw and sore ribs and knuckles. But I was so pleased with myself that I laughed the whole way back to the docks, even though it hurt.

"That was fun," I said cheerfully. "We've got to do that again."

"We gotta week, Angel. I mean. Poker," he smirked and elbowed me. I'd forgotten that my hair was still hidden in my hat.

The Brooklynites had obviously long since finished selling and were now swimming in the East River. It had gotten hot, but I couldn't unbutton my shirt for fear that all the Brooklynites would know I was a girl. And for once I was thinking about actually listening to Spot. A boy at least two heads taller than me stopped both Silver and I as we walked towards the beams where Spot was lounging, gazing over his kingdom.

"Nice bruise, kid. Silver rough ya up good, did he?" the boy said condescendingly. It irritated me. I clenched my fists, ready to show the kid what I'd learned today.

"Bowler, quit bein' an ass," Silver said coldly.

"Nah, I wanna see how much he knows, Silver," the guy, Bowler, said, looking down at me. "Like how to duck."

I didn't have time to react. I saw stars. Bright white and blue stars and I hit the docks hard. There was a frenzy of voices and I heard Silver call "Spot!" but maybe I was imagining it. He'd hit me right in the jaw where I was already bruised and the whole right side of my face hurt like hell.

I swore quietly and then sat up, wanting to touch my jaw but it hurt too much. I heard a collective gasp from around me and I opened my eyes to about twenty or thirty pairs of eyes staring at me in shock.

"Whaddya lookin' at?" I hissed at them.

A younger newsie, no older than nine spoke. "Your hair."

I blinked and reached up to touch my head, realizing that my hat must've flown off when I fell backwards. My hair was out. And they knew I was a girl.

I swore again.

Just then, Spot pushed his way through the crowd of shocked Brooklynites. He stared hard at me before he looked over at Silver and another boy, who was holding Bowler down. Bowler was swearing repeatedly.

"What the hell happened?" Spot was not happy. "Get that ass up."

Silver and the boy pulled Bowler up and the big guy wheeled around to face his pissed-off leader.

"Why didja hit me girl?" Spot demanded.

"Didn't know she was a girl," Bowler said simply, not looking at all threatened by his leader's coldness or the fact that his knuckles were white around his cane.

"Why I outta—" Spot growled and stepped forward, but Silver put a hand on his chest.

"Spot…" he muttered, a warning in his voice.

Spot sighed loudly but it sounded like a hiss coming through his teeth. He stepped right up to Bowler, the boy being two heads taller but Spot looked like a vicious lion. It was pretty frightening, and I wasn't even the one he was ticked at.

"Don't ever hit 'er again," Spot said, after a moment of tense silence. "Or I will not hesitate to soak ya meself, and I ain't makin' no promises that I'll stop. Do I make meself clear?"

A vein in Bowler's jaw jumped. He was pissed, too. "Yep."

Spot stepped back and glared at all of his gaping newsies. "That goes for all of you'se. If I even here dat any of ya gave Angel a hard time or even_ looked_ at her too long…"

He let the threat hang, letting his followers envision their own deaths and tortures at the hands of their frightening leader. He motioned to Silver and then walked away. Silver pulled me off the ground, smiling sweetly at me, before running after the fuming Spot Conlon.

I was so shocked. Spot had never defended me before. I kind of liked it. It made me respect him.

The young boy who'd first spoken to me when I finally came to trotted up to me and smiled.

I tried to smile back but it hurt like hell. "Heya," I said.

"Hiya. I'se Sneak. And you're Angel?" he asked.

He was the sweetest little thing. "Sure am. Nice to know ya, Sneak."

Sneak spit in his hand and I obliged him, knowing he probably just was tickled pink by the idea of spit-shaking.

"So you'se a girl now, huh?" Sneak smiled at me.

I nodded. "Guess so."

"Good. Ya make a better girl than a boy."


	7. watch the chemicals react

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_

* * *

_

_But the planets all aligned  
When you looked into my eyes  
And just like that  
Watch the chemicals react  
And just like that  
The chemicals react_

_~ "Chemicals React" by Aly & AJ  
_

* * *

The rest of the day I made an effort to avoid Spot, since I knew he was still fuming about the thing with Bowler this afternoon. I went to dinner by myself, since Silver and Spot had not left Spot's room since they went inside. I actually stayed around the younger boys. Sneak introduced me to his friends Flint, Mouse, and Avery. I learned that they were Spot's 'birdies' who ran around the city collecting information to bring back to their leader about the goings on of New York City. I couldn't help thinking that it was very predictable of Spot.

So I spent my time telling the younger boys stories my mother used to tell me when I was younger. Scary stories.

"You mean you've never heard of the Púca?" I gasped, like I was surprised. I loved the looks on the younger boys' faces as their eyes widened and then scooted closer to the cot I was sitting on.

"What's that, Angel?" one asked.

"Well," I said, leaning forward. "The Púca is a shape shifter. That means it can be anything it wants to be. It's usually a horse though."

"What's it look like?"

"It's very dark, with a long mane and bright yellow eyes that stare right down into your soul," I said, trying my hand at being creepy. I didn't think it was working too well.

"Is it bad?"

"It can be," I said. "The Púca likes to misbehave when its not happy. If you leave food out for him, sometimes he'll leave you alone. He likes it when little boys ride on him, though."

The boys looked at each other nervously, and I took that as a good sign.

"The Púca isn't all bad, though. He usually keeps you out of trouble if he's having a good day. But he does like to tell lies and confuse you, so you watch out. You can't always trust a Púca," I told them, like a scolding mother.

One of the boys, Mouse, spoke up in a tiny, mousy voice. "Can we leave something out for the Púca tonight, Angel?" he asked.

The boys all nodded their agreement. I was glad to entertain them. It was a lot of fun, and it felt right.

"We sure can. But you all have to touch it, so when the Púca comes to take it, he'll know your scent and he'll know to be nice to you from now on," I said.

"We should give the Púca marbles," Sneak offered. "Everybody likes marbles."

"Yeah, marbles," Avery agreed and so it was set.

Each boy produced a marble from their own stash and I found an old chipped porcelain dish and each boy deposited their marble into the dish, making sure to first rub it all around in their hands to get their scent on it.

"Now then. We must leave it in the bathroom so the Púca won't disturb us tonight while we sleep," I said, walking to the bathroom with the boys behind me. I set it on the window sill at the far end and cracked the window just enough for the Púca to squeeze in.

"But, Angel," Sneak said and I turned. "What if it wakes one of us up and wants to ride?"

I smiled and ruffled his hair. "Then you come ask me first. I don't want ya getting in trouble with the Púca. Ya hear that?"

The boys nodded solemnly and I grinned. "Now, off to bed so the Púca can come faster." I shooed them off, back into the bunkroom. I took one last look at the dish of marbles and then shuffled off to make sure the boys got into bed.

One of the Brooklynites, who was actually nice to me, stopped me by the arm. I looked up at him, surprised.

"It's real nice what ya doin' here, Angel. We ain't never had nobody be nice to them boys," he said. "Ya like a mother to 'em."

I smiled slightly. "Just doin' what I'm good at. And I like 'em."

The boy nodded. "Well, I got respect fer ya. No wonder ya Spot's goil."

I blushed but didn't correct him. Spot had told everyone this afternoon that I was his girl, and I wasn't about to get everyone in a tizzy by telling them I wasn't really his girl. Spot knew what he was doing by saying that. I hoped.

I made sure every boy was tucked in safely and Avery was the last one I checked on. He tugged on my sleeve. I swear he was only six years old.

"Angel," he said quietly.

"Yeah, love?" I sat down on his bunk and removed his cap that he'd forgotten to take off.

"Have you'se ever ridden a Púca?"

I smiled. "Sure have. Just once."

"What was it like?"

I almost laughed. Little children were so very adorable. "It was… wild. Púcas love to have people ride them, but they get a little crazy with it. It was a pretty wild ride, Ave. I wouldn't do it again."

This seemed to satisfy him and he closed his eyes. I stood up and headed for Spot's room. No use avoiding it anyways.

"Good night, boys," I called to the smaller newsies.

"Good night, Angel," they all called back and it made some of the older boys snicker.

I knocked on Spot's door, nervously. There was a shuffling inside and then the door opened to reveal an extremely sober-faced Silver. I blinked up at him. He put a hand on my shoulder and I wasn't sure if I was going into the battlefield to fight or just cleaning up the bodies left behind. It scared me.

I slid into the space that was left by the Silver, who'd stepped out around me. I closed the door and then sighed, pulling my cap off. I left it on my cot near the wall and climbed out onto the fire escape. I wasn't really sure what the appeal of sitting on this thing was. It was annoying. Then again, most people didn't understand why I sat on the roof and enjoyed it.

Spot didn't look up at me, just stood there, leaning against the railing, smoking a cigarette. I sat down beside his feet, hanging my arms over the bar. He probably didn't want to speak to me, but I was going to sit there anyways.

"Angel, what's ya biggest fear?" Spot asked. I didn't know how long we sat there together not speaking. It seemed like years.

"What?" I glanced up at him, not sure I heard him right.

"What are ya most afraid of?" Spot repeated.

I blinked, wondering if I should lie or just tell him the truth. "I'm afraid of… people knowing how wrong I am. I just want to be Angel. With nothing attached. Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah," Spot said softly, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Wanna know what I'm afraid of?"

"Sure," I said, wondering who put what in his food. Why was he being so nice to me?

"I'se afraid of losing everything," he said quietly. "Brooklyn, me boys… I ain't nothin' without them."

"What about a girl?" I asked, wondering if that was even a safe topic. "All great leaders need a woman behind them, Spot. It's the only way to survive. Who's yours?"

I looked up when he didn't answer. He frowned. Yeah, that's right. Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn, _frowned_.

"I lost 'er," he said quietly. "Six years ago."

I glanced at my hands. He sounded so broken about it. He wasn't the same person. Spot the King was different than Spot the Broken. It was odd. I looked up at him and he looked down at me. He smiled after a while. "Look at me. Talkin' 'bout my shit like ya care. Sorry, Angel."

I laughed. "S'okay, Spot. I don't mind. It's nice to see a different side of you. Honest. Though I'm thinking about slapping you, just to see if you'll snap out of it."

The Spot-smirk was back on his lips. "Don't get used to it, Angel. This ain't me. Just someone I gotta be sometimes."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever ya gotta do, Spot, to keep yourself from cryin' at night."

He laughed and I was shocked. Usually I'd get an asshole response from him. But, nope, nothing. Just laughter. I liked that much better.

"Where do ya get 'em from, Angel? How'd ya get to be such a smart ass?" Spot asked, and I stood up, leaning against the railing beside him.

"Racetrack," I said simply, plucking the cigarette from his lips to stick them between my own.

"I shoulda known," he laughed again and stole the cigarette back.

"Italians and Irish get along good," I defended myself. "We both have fiery tempers an' talk too much."

"Irish? You're Irish?" he gave me a funny look.

"Yep. I have red in my hair. You couldn't tell?" I gave his shoulder a shove, but he wasn't laughing anymore.

He stared at me for a long time, and I felt as if he was trying to fit me into an image that wasn't who I was anymore. It gave me an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. I looked away, embarrassed by his scrutiny.

"Ya remind me of my friend," he said, and I figured that was his way of apologizing for staring at me. "That's why I was lookin' at ya."

"She must've been incredible," I teased him.

"Yeah, she was," he said, but his eyes were distant, remembering.

"Well, I'm going to bed. Coming?" I climbed back through the window without waiting for him to respond or follow me.

I slid out of my trousers and sat down on the edge of my cot, running the brush through my hair one last time before I tied it up on top of my head. I stood up and folded my trousers, setting them near my bed.

I heard Spot laugh from the other side of the room, and I was almost sorry for pleasing him so very much. "Damn, woman, you're shameless."

I shrugged. "Get bent, Conlon," I said easily. But he was right. I was shameless. It was easy to be shameless in front of boys, because my father already took away my shyness about my body when he ripped apart my thighs like a wishbone in a turkey. But Spot didn't need to know or want to know that.

So we went to bed without another word, which was fine by me. I wouldn't get much sleep tonight. I never did anymore. And that was fine with me. My body never really screamed too much about it. I think it was used to the fact that I only slept a few hours at night, at best.

I was awoken by getting shaken and my eyes snapped open. "Whassa mattah?" I mumbled, sleep in my voice. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I hoped we weren't getting attacked again. I couldn't handle being that scared again.

Avery peered at me with large blue eyes. "Angel! Come with me! You'se gotta see this!"

I nodded. "All right. Just let me get my trousers," I said sleepily and slid out of the bed, pulling my trousers back on. I hoped we hadn't woken Spot. I was afraid to see what it was like when he was awoken when he didn't need to be up.

I allowed myself to be pulled through the room by the hand by Avery and we tiptoed past the rows of sleeping Brooklynites. We went into the restroom near the front and Avery went and retrieved the little porcelain dish that we'd set out for the Púca.

"Look, Angel!" Avery exclaimed, thrusting the dish forward for me to peer into. My eyes went wide with actual shock.

"Oh, my God!" I swore. The dish was empty. No marbles. None.

"I toldja! The Púca came, Angel! Jus' like ya said!" Avery was beaming, and I was glad that whoever in the Lodging House that took it upon himself to keep the thrill alive. Even just for the boys.

"I told you, silly. Anything is possible. I just thought he always lived in Ireland. Maybe he followed me," I hugged him tightly. "Now, let's get you back to bed. It's late and we don't need Spot Conlon gettin' mad at both of us."

I led Avery by the hand back to his bed and tucked him in again. I ruffled his hair and then snuck back to Spot's bedroom, slipping in the crack at the door, closing it quietly. I nearly screamed when I turned and there was Spot, sitting on my bed. He must have been tired, but he didn't show it.

"Sorry. I got worried when I rolled over you weren't there," he said and I almost laughed. Except he was serious. "Thought ya left er somethin'. What were ya doin' anyhow?"

I wiggled out of my trousers again and smiled. "Keeping the faith alive. Those boys need something to live for," I said, almost to myself.

Spot stood up and brushed my elbow with his hand and I realized after a few heartbeats that he was trying to be affectionate with me. "Well, I'se real glad ya didn't leave yet."

"Why?"

"Wouldn't be the same here without ya, Angel," he said, and then sighed. "Ya growin' on me, ya cheeky minx."

I rolled my eyes, waving his comment off. I just figured that it came from the talk we had had earlier. We had bonded, or something, and now he was just being nice to me.

"No, I'm serious, Angel," he stopped me from heading back to my bed. "Ya different, Angel. I know ya got secrets. I can see 'em in yer eyes. But ya don't throw them around and expect me to fix 'em. Like those other goils. That's why I'se like ya, Angel. Ya different."

I blinked and looked up at him. Oh, God, he _was_ serious. I wasn't sure how to take that. I almost thought about excusing myself to go and be sick. I never thought I'd get over losing Sean. But now, staring up at Spot with his hand on my elbow, I wondered if it was possible. His jaw shifted slightly, like he was thinking deeply about something, and then he pulled away.

I immediately felt the loss against my side, of the heat and of his affection, or whatever the hell he was trying to do. I wasn't really sure. But I made a mental note to try and bring this side of him out whenever I could. I liked this side best.


	8. with nothing left inside

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

* * *

_I remember when you came with me that night_  
_We said forever, that that you would never let me go_  
_But here I am again_  
_With nothing left inside_  
_No I don't wanna but I gotta let you go._

_~ "Let U Go" by Ashley Parker Angel_

* * *

The next morning, I was up like clockwork. Got my breakfast then came back to the Lodging House just in time to meet Silver and walk to the Distribution Office together. We sold all afternoon, grabbed some lunch at Mar's Bar (which I learned was the nameless bar in Brooklyn with the scary looking guys playing pool), and then spent our usual hour sparring in an alley.

But Silver wouldn't let me go home after that. I wouldn't tell him, but I was itching to be around Spot again. But I think he knew. He insisted we go and see this doctor he knew on the line between Manhattan and Brooklyn. I knew for a fact he couldn't afford a doctor but the bruise in my jaw was aching like hell, so I didn't protest too much. We reached a very cute ranch house and Silver knocked on the door.

The tallest man I'd ever seen in my life answered it, and smiled warmly at Silver. He was thin with a straight nose and dark hair. He peered through spectacles at us. He seemed very nice.

"Ah, Mister Matthew," the man said. "Back to woo my daughter, are you?"

I snickered quietly and Silver elbowed me lightly. "Guilty as charged," he said, and I noticed how his cheeks warmed. "Do you mind terribly if we see her, sir?"

"Not at all. Your friend looks like he could use all the help he can get," the man said and then ushered us inside. "Lara! Matthew's here!"

The most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life descended the steps then, smiling when she saw Silver. She fluttered across the room and threw herself into his arms and they hugged tightly. She was so beautiful. I looked away in shame, resisting the urge to flutter my hands over myself to cover up my own ugliness.

"Och, it's good tae see ye, Silver," she said, and her Scottish accent shocked me greatly. I would have never expected an accent. It was much different from the grating New York accent that I kept hearing. God, she was so beautiful.

"You, too, Night. Ya look beautiful," Silver replied, to which she swatted at him but I could see her blush slightly.

"Away wit' ye!" she smiled. "Ye donae mean it."

Silver didn't fight with her, though. It was kind of cute. "Oh, Night, this here is Angel. Angel, this is Nightshade."

The girl, Nightshade, moved out of Silver's arms and I finally got a good look at her. She had long black ringlets that looked thick, but soft and she had cinnamon freckles in a dusting across her perfect nose and her pale cheeks. But she had the most haunting violet eyes. Yes, they were violet like the flower. She was beautiful.

"Yes, A see nae," she said. "Ye are Angel becaus' ye are so beautiful, aye?"

I rolled my eyes. "Probably not, but I appreciate the thought. And why are you Nightshade?"

"Because she's deadly," Silver wrapped his arms around her from behind but she didn't laugh, just rolled her eyes. Oh, they were so sweet together.

"A'm guessin' ye'll be needin' somethin' tae take care of that bruise, aye?" Night once again wormed out of Silver's arms. She stepped forward and took my face gently in her hands, to get a better look. "Och, how painful. A've got jus' the thing to fix it up, though. A'll be reit back!"

She fluttered out of the room to get whatever it was that she needed and I put my hands on my hips, staring accusingly at Silver. He looked sheepish.

"You love her," I accused, jabbing his chest with my finger.

"So? Ya love Spot and I don't feel the need to harass ya about it."

I blushed. Okay, I was fond of the guy, but I didn't love him. …Right?

Nightshade came back into the room as if she'd never left, with a soft looking cloth and a vial with something inside of it. She placed both into my hands and smiled at me, violet eyes peering into my soul. It was creepy, and yet I found I couldn't look away.

"So what's dah prognosis, Doctah Night?" Silver asked, teasing her.

"Ye need tae keep somethin' on it at all times," Night said, ignoring Silver's teasing. "This haur is aloe. It's effective in treatin' that nasty bruise ye got. Every four hours, A want ye tae keep somethin' cold on it, for aboot twenty minutes. Then put the aloe on it. That's just for today. Tamarra A want ye to put cold on it for twenty minutes, and then put the aloe on it," she instructed. Wow, she really was a doctor.

I nodded, so she knew I understood. "That's it?"

"Tha's it," she agreed. "Should heal up handsomely. If it doesn't, then A want ye tae come back and see me. If it doesn't heal up, then ye got yerself in a wee bind. But nae to worry. It really should heal up."

I smiled, and then winced. Nightshade smiled. "Thank you so very much. How much do I owe ya?"

Night shook her head. "Donae even get ye money out. A donae charge for any of the newsies tha' come tae see me. Part o' the job."

I nodded. "That's very kind. Thank you."

"Nae problem, lass. If ye ever need anythin' A am always here," Night smiled again, only she looked serene like a cherubim. She was so beautiful. "Now, off ye gae."

Silver hugged her nice and tightly, kissing the part in her curls. "Thanks again, Nightshade. You'se a lifesaver, dahlin'."

"An' din't ye ferget it," Night nodded and grinned, pushing us out the door playfully. As we were walking down the street, she leaned out of the door and called to us. "See ye efter!"

We waved back to her and then headed back through Brooklyn to get back to the docks. Spot tipped his hat from his makeshift throne and Silver and I sat on the edge of one of the piers, legs dangling. I pocketed the vial and my rag, making a mental note to put cold water on my bruise when I went back inside.

Silver looked past me when the Broolynites started catcalling and whistling and swore quietly. I looked up to see what the hell he was staring at and found that it was a girl, but it didn't look like any girl I would've known. She was dressed in a pink dress, but it wasn't long and puffy like it should have been. It cut off high above the proper limit and she wore chunky white cowboy boots and dyed-pink feathers in her white-blonde hair. The way she walked was shameless, like she wanted people to watch her. And, boy did they watch her.

Okay, yuck, I thought.

"Who's the tart?" I asked Silver, watching the girl preen under the boys' attention. She was vile.

"That's Desiree. Self-proclaimed queen of Brooklyn. Nobody likes 'er but she don't take a hint too well, as ya can see," Silver said, sliding his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer. I wasn't sure why, though. "And she's a pain in the ass."

"I can see why," I muttered, watching her strut towards the throne room like she was something special.

"Hey, Spot!" Silver called up to his leader. "Somethin' wicked this way comes."

Spot must not have been paying attention because a few seconds later, I heard him swear. It would've been funny, but I was feeling a little territorial and this wasn't even my place to begin with. I was feeling territorial over Spot. He wasn't mine, but I felt like I had some claim to him. Perhaps that was why I was so angry with her for no reason. How wrong.

"Spotty!" the tart called, stepping down under one of the beams, finally entering His Highness' Court.

Silver's body shook lightly with his laughter and I smiled, leaning back against his side to watch the drama unfold.

"Toldja before, Desiree, the witch coven don't meet here no more," Spot said, the epitome of cold.

The closer she got, the more anger I felt. It was stupid, of course, but I couldn't help the feeling of wanting to punch her in her stupid face. She wasn't even that pretty. Her face was pinched and she kind of looked like a rat. It irritated me. I think Silver noticed, because he started playing with my fingers. As if that would've calmed me down anyways…

"Oh, you," the tart simpered. I rolled my eyes. "Silly Spotty. I came to see you. Now come down here and greet me like a proper gentleman."

"Yeah, Spotty. Say 'hi' to your whore before she lays an egg," Silver agreed and he and I both laughed at that.

The tart looked our way and smirked, probably noticing that I was a girl, but she said nothing. She looked up when Spot jumped down from his perch, looking pleased as punch that he actually obliged her request.

"There. I'se here now. What do ya want?" Spot asked, his face a blank mask. It was amazing how he could be so cold, and yet, he was so… vulnerable the night before. It was… admirable. He could be a great actor if he wanted.

"I just wanted to see you," she said, poking his arm when she said 'you' and I flinched slightly as if she'd poked me. "You haven't been round lately and I just wondered why. I've missed you, Spotty." She then draped herself against him and smiled ever so sweetly up at him. He didn't even move or touch her.

"I'se been busy with some things," he said, sending a glance my way. I smiled back at him and the tart didn't miss a thing.

"Oh? You didn't tell me you've got a new recruit, Spotty," she let Spot go immediately and turned fully towards me, smiling. "Hello there. I'm Desiree. Who are you?"

"Angel," I said, smirking when horror crossed her face. The stupid tart was trying to flirt with me. I had half a mind to slap her across the face.

"You're… a girl?" she gasped. "That's… vile."

I stood up, shaking Silver off when he grabbed my sleeve to hold me back. "Wanna know what else is vile? My fists soaking your stupid face all over the fu—"

Silver stood up and slapped his hand over my mouth, preventing me from swearing at her. I was fuming. His arm curled around my middle to hold me back but I continued to struggle. I was angry.

"Anyways," Silver said, holding me still against him. "I'se think it's time for ya to go, Des. Nobody wants ya here anyhow. Go wreck someone else's day, wouldja?"

Desiree smiled and I started squirming to break free once again. Spot just stood there, smoking quietly, watching. "Sure. Just wanted to see my Spotty. I have to get back to work anyways." She turned around and leaned into kiss Spot and my whole world dropped when her mouth touched the corner of his. "Bye, Spotty." She turned and smiled at me. "Nice to meet you, Angel."

And with that, she walked back down the docks, skirt swishing around her thighs as she walked, curls bouncing. She didn't look back.

Silver released me but I stayed quiet. I ripped the hat off my head and threw it at my feet. I stormed off the docks and into the Lodging House, where I soaked my rag in cold water and lay on my bed for the twenty minutes, the cold clothe pressed against my jaw. It felt good. There was no clock around, so I just estimated and when I felt the time was up, I rubbed aloe on it afterwards.

I crawled under the blankets and wept quietly. For myself, mostly. How could I be so stupid to think that I ever had a chance with the enigma named Spot Conlon?


	9. i feel like a monster

**So, why exactly is Spot angry with David when Jack, Boots and him come to Brooklyn to ask for Spot's help? How exactly does Spot find out who Angel is? Can Spot get any more nomnom than he all ready is? These questions and more will be answered in this chapter! :)**

**CHAPTER NINE**

* * *

_I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin_  
_I must confess that I feel like a monster_  
_I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun_  
_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_~ "Monster" by Skillet_

* * *

The next day, like all the other days before, was uneventful and routine. I felt like I was starting a rut and I didn't like that. I was doing the same thing over and over without changing it. It annoyed me greatly. And I told Silver that as we were walking to Mar's Bar for lunch.

"Well, then we need tah do somethin' different, then. Ever gone swimmin'?" Silver asked.

I nodded. "In Ireland, yeah, but not here ever. I'm not very good at it. Why?"

"We should go, then. It'll be fun," Silver said.

So it was set. We would go swimming, but I insisted we go back to the Lodging House so I could get rid of all my change from selling and put my personal effects safely under my bed. We walked back afterwards and Silver let me go inside, opting to wait for me outside when I was finished.

I slid into Spot's room, happy that the Lodging House was so empty, until I saw Spot sitting in the window, smoking. I was still sort of pissed from the day before, though he'd done nothing wrong, so I didn't speak to him. I pulled my change from my pocket and dumped it into the sock I had for money, retying it when I was done. I pulled my cap off but kept my hair tied back and unbuttoned my shirt. I had a white camisole-like shirt underneath, so that would do. And I would take my trousers off when I got out there.

"Ya know, Angel, I've been thinkin' about somethin'," Spot said, leaving his perch from the window to come and sit down on my cot behind me. It made me a little nervous.

I rolled my eyes. "Thinkin' about how great ya are again? Spot, I really don't need another lesson on the span of your ego. It's its own land mass," I retorted, not entirely in the mood for this.

"Don't need to t'ink about that," he smirked and I pretended that I didn't notice my heart flutter slightly at it. "No. I was thinkin' about the night you and Jacky's boys came here when ya became a newsie."

I rolled my eyes again. "Lovely. If ya weren't thinkin' about yourself, ya were thinkin' about my mouth. Charming, Spot. Real charming."

"Well, ya kissed good. I remember that part real well," he grinned like a fox at me and I sighed.

"Is that all you wanted to discuss? I'd like to move on now, Spot," I said, almost irritated but I hadn't entirely crossed that line yet.

He leaned into my ear and I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Say my name again, Angel. Ya mouth looks so provocative when you do." His breath tickled my ear and I wondered what the hell he was playing at. I couldn't smell alcohol on his breath, so he wasn't impaired. The thought crossed my mind, like before, that maybe he _wanted_ to kiss me.

"What the hell—" I muttered until his mouth was on mine. The night we first did this came flooding back to my brain. I couldn't think. I was frozen. He gripped my waist and hauled me across the bed and onto his lap. I didn't mind that. His fingers felt really sexy digging into my skin like they were.

He didn't taste like beer this time. Oh, no. He tasted like anise and ginger beer. Yum. He groaned slightly and gripped my hips a little tighter and I was aware of how his hands nearly fit around my waist, making a luscious little flutter tip my stomach around.

His tongue forced entry and it was a fencing match to the death. Unlike the last time I was caught in this situation with Spot, I was kissing him back. And I hated myself for it. My fingers had a mind of their own, sliding up the back of his neck and tangling in his hair, which didn't help anything.

His mouth left mine and found the soft spot at the base of my neck, where my heartbeat pulsed rapidly. Each time it throbbed, his tongue swept across it, making this delicious tingle race up and down my spine. I couldn't breathe.

"Angel," he whispered against my skin.

I didn't know where this had come from, but I wasn't going to stop it. I liked it too much. I liked it way too much.

"ALYSSA O'ROURKE! GET YA ASS DOWN HERE! I AM HOT AND I WANT TO GO SWIMMING! **_NOW!_**" Silver called from the bottom of the steps.

The warm mouth at my neck stopped moving. Blue eyes lifted to find mine and for a split second, realization flooded his face.

"Lissa," he breathed.

I leaned back, taking a good look at him. He didn't know my name, so how…? Oh. _No_. I was such a damn fool. How could I not have seen it? The eyes! His eyes were so familiar!

"Sean. It _is_ you," I breathed back.

We stared at each other for a long time. I leaned in close, our mouths almost touching again. I wanted to kiss him again. Until those azure eyes hardened back into ice. His hands shoved me off of him and promptly onto the floor. For a few moments, I was terrified of him.

"You knew!" he shouted, fists shaking like he wanted to hit me. "Ya knew all this time, and ya didn't even tell me! What the hell, Angel? Why the hell didn't ya tell me?"

I shook my head, so many words trying to come out at once. He didn't give me a chance to speak.

"No. Ya knew this whole time and ya liked it. Ya wanted to hold it over me head, right? Didja think this was funny? Well I ain't laughing, Lissa!" he shouted, warmth flooding up his neck, but he wasn't embarrassed or ashamed. He was pissed like a hornet.

"I didn't know it was you. Honest. I thought this whole time you were dead," I said quietly, trying so hard to explain.

"Well, I ain't dead, Lissa! I'm alive and I've been here this whole damn time and ya never said one damn word about it!"

He was still shouting and I was shaking. Sean never yelled at me. Ever. But Sean wasn't yelling at me. _Spot_ was yelling at me. And I would let him. I was wrong. I had done something very wrong to him.

"Just can't believe ya held somethin' like this from me, Liss. I thought ya were better than that. Hell, I_ know_ ya better then that. I been waitin' six years for ya to come back into me life. Six years," Spot said, quietly this time. The mood swing shocked me, but I said nothing still. I couldn't. I was speechless. "All I ever wanted to do was protect ya. But I guess ya don't need it anymore, huh?"

He grabbed his cane and headed for the door. "Oh, and Liss?"

I looked up at him, still not speaking, too frightened.

"I loved ya," he glanced at me and then walked out the door.

"I loved you, too," I whispered to no one.

When I heard the door slam downstairs, I leaned back against the wall and started sobbing. I couldn't sort my emotions. I was overjoyed to know that Sean wasn't dead, but I was scared now. I felt exposed. He knew who I was. He knew it was me. I didn't mean to hide it, but I wasn't sure I wanted to be Lissa O'Rourke anymore. I wanted to be Angel, the girl that didn't have a thing wrong with her at all.

Silver came up and held onto me and I sobbed into him. He just stroked my hair and whispered quietly to me. I think he was speaking Latin. I lifted my head, the tears having slowed to a hot crawl down my cheeks.

"What are you saying?" I murmured, sniffling slightly.

He kissed my forehead, gently. "_Alis volat propriis_. She flies with her own wings."

I smiled despite myself, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "That's beautiful," I whispered.

"Don't be sad no more, Angel. It's all right," Silver said gently, his head resting on my shoulder. "Spot's jus' surprised and confused. He gets pissed when either happens. He didn't mean nothing by what he said. I promise."

I didn't bother telling him that it was my fault he blew his top the way he did. In the end, Silver opted for walking around Brooklyn, to get my mind off of the situation. I was happy to go along and I almost forgot about what happened between Spot and I. For a few hours, I was just Angel. Not Lissa.

When we came back to the docks, Sneak ran up to the both of us, panting. "Silver, Angel! Jack Kelly's coming!" he exclaimed excitedly. I'd almost forgotten that he was one of Spot's most trusted 'boidies.'

Silver frowned. "Why? What's wrong? Angel's week wit' us ain't up."

"Pulitzer and Hearst jacked up dah prices this mornin' and Jack and his newsies is goin' on strike!" Sneak looked so jazzed with this knowledge.

"Strike?" Silver stepped around Sneak and jogged to the docks to go and talk to Spot, I was sure.

I shuffled after him, ruffling Sneak's hair affectionately. I sat down at the foot of the rafter throne. Silver climbed down after speaking to Spot, probably, and sat down beside me. I leaned against him when he put his arm around my shoulders. Silver inhaled a cigarette and then handed it to me, as all three of us watched Jack Kelly, David, and Boots shuffle towards us.

"Well if it ain't Jack-be-nimble, Jack-be-quick," Spot said above us, voice all ego. I licked my lips out of instinct. Goodness, what I wouldn't give to be back on his good side. He was so deliciously surly.

"See ya moved up in the world, Spot," Jack said, entering the throne room easily, his two followers shuffling in behind him. I smiled at his voice. God, it was good to see him again. "Got a river view and everythin'."

Spot slid easily off his perch on the rafters, making his landing look sinuous and easy. He was holding his cane like a weapon, probably just in case any of his boys got out of line with the Manhattaners here. Jack spit in his hand first, a compromise, and then Spot and the two friends shook, grinning at each other. It was nice to watch.

"Heya, Boots. How's it rollin'?" Spot asked the younger boy, depositing his cane into the loop in his suspenders. Silver and I exchanged glances. That was _my_ greeting. How dare he take it and use it. But I couldn't help feeling thrilled. Maybe there was hope for us…

"Gotta couple a' real good shooters heah," Boots said, offering his marbles like a peace offering to an angry king.

David, the new boy that I didn't meet when he first came to Manhattan, was staring at me. I tipped my hat at him and smiled, and I think he blushed. I made a mental note of introducing myself later.

Spot made a noise of approval from Boots' offering and pulled his slingshot out, loading one of the little glass marbles inside. "So, Jacky-boy, I've been hearin' things from little boids," Spot said casually. "Things from Harlem, Queens—" he took aim and let fly, right past poor David's ear. What a jealous little bastard he was! And Spot looked right at David when he spoke next. "All over."

He walked past them as he continued his little monologue. "They've been chirpin' in my ear. Jacky-boy's newsies is playin' like they're goin' on strike."

"Yeah, well we are," Jack said, not missing a beat or the fact that Spot was almost looking down his nose at them.

"Well we're not playing," David stepped up and I was sorry that he started speaking. He was already on Spot's bad side. I would've bet that Spot had seen David staring at me. "We are going on strike."

"Oh, yeah? Yeah?" Spot got right in the poor boy's face. Oh, yeah. Spot _definitely_ saw David staring at me. "What is this, Jacky-boy? Some kinda walkin' mouth?" he spit the words, disgust in his voice.

"Yeah, it's a mouth," Jack said, but Spot only looked at him briefly. He only had eyes for David, in the worst way. "But a mouth wit' a brain, and if you got halfa one, you'll listen to what he's gotta say."

Jack stepped aside and both Silver and I leaned forward to hear what David had to say. Spot leaned back on a crate, haughty as ever, probably just humoring both Jack and David at this point.

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to newsies all around the city," Dave said, hurriedly.

"Yeah, so they told me. But what'd they tell you?" Spot asked, impatience tingeing his voice just slightly.

David went on to explain that they needed Brooklyn, more specifically Spot himself, to get everyone else in New York City to join them. He even went further to make up for his mouth by stroking Spot's ego, saying how respected and famous he was. Everyone knew him, and if he joined, then they joined. Logic was good. Spot smirked slightly, his ego obviously pleased, but it wiped away soon enough. Too soon.

"You're right, Jack," Spot said. _No Jacky-boy? This must be serious, _I thought. "Brains. But I got brains, too. And more than just halfa one." He hit his cane on the wood below for emphasis before bringing it eye level, in an almost threatening way. "How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do I know what you got it takes to win?"

"'Cause I'm tellin' ya, Spot," Jack said easily. It seemed like that pretty much determined everything between them. Jack and Spot seemed pretty tight friends. If Jack said something, then Spot agreed. Apparently. But Spot's mind was made up. I could see it in his eyes.

There would be no resetting of the mind of Spot Conlon.

"That ain't good enough, Jacky-boy. Ya gotta show me," Spot said, with a note of finality. There was no arguing now, and that irritated me.

Three very saddened boys left Brooklyn after that and Silver got up to chase after them, I hoped, to apologize. I was not happy with this meeting, even if it was none of my business.

"So that's it, huh, Spot?" I asked, standing up, watching him shuffle back towards his rafter throne. "We're just going to take what they give us, huh?"

Spot looked at me and I wondered if I was going to get screamed at again. But this time I wouldn't be afraid. I was fighting for something now. I believed in Jack and what he was doing. Even if Spot didn't.

"Ya don't know Jack like I do, Angel. He puts his hand in everythin' but never sees it through. I've been his friend for a long time. I know," Spot said. That just made me angry. How could be so callous? He and Jack were _friends_. Didn't that trump everything?

"So this is fair what they're doing, right?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips. I hated fighting, but sometimes, with Spot, you had to be a little stubborn.

"No, it ain't fair at all. It's real shitty, Angel, but what are we gonna do about it? Strike? That's kid stuff," Spot said, his calm annoying me. I wanted to throttle him. "We ain't got the money to strike, Angel. Me boys will be back on the streets, an' I can't do that to them. Not in Brooklyn."

"No, we ain't gonna strike," I hissed, getting angry. "We're gonna fight for our rights because it's the right thing to do. They can't treat us like this."

"Get smart, Angel. By this time tomrrow, Jack Kelly will have forgotten all about this. And so will I," Spot said, climbing back up to the top where he was safe. Where he was alone. Where he was better off, because he couldn't hurt people or be hurt when he was alone.

"Well, I won't forget about it. I'm going to Manhattan and I'm supportin' Jack. Because you're too much of an arrogant bastard to see that helpin' ya friends is more important than holding up an image that ain't even who you really are," I said angrily.

Spot looked down at me. "Ya got no idea who I am. Ya ain't been around for six years. Or didja forget all ready, _Lissa?_"

His words were a slap, but I grit my teeth through the pain of it and glared up at him, my pride flushing pink from the heat of his careless indifference.

"An' you don't know who I am anymore, _Sean_," I replied, a slap of my own.

He didn't even flinch. He didn't even look at me. And I'd had enough.

"I hope you're happy here, Spot Conlon. Being alone is all you're good at. You are only concerned for yourself. Let's see how far that gets ya in life," I informed him and then stormed off the docks, and out of Spot's life.

I caught Silver while he was walking back, probably to talk to Spot. "Silver, will ya have one of the birds bring my stuff to Manhattan?"

"Sure thing, Angel." Silver glanced over my shoulder at Spot, who wasn't even looking our way, I was sure. "Change of plans?"

"Yep," I said, shrugging. "Spot's good at being alone. I just hope he enjoys it. I ain't comin' back."

Silver nodded and gave me a hug before I ran to catch up with the trio of sad Manhattan newsies.

"Jack!" I called to them. All three of them stopped and turned. I caught up to them easily. I was good at running. "I'm sorry. I really thought he'd say 'yes'."

"Didja talk to him?" Jack asked. I was sure Silver told Jack about what happened between Spot and I this afternoon.

"Yeah, but nothin' doin'," I said, and shrugged. "But he'll change his mind. Nobody can live alone forever. Not even Spot."


	10. someday love will finally be enough

**CHAPTER TEN**

* * *

_I turned around 3 times and wound up at your door_  
_Now you say you know all you did not know before_  
_And I offer no sympathy for that_  
_I hear that it was you who died alone_  
_And I offer no sympathy for that_  
_Better off I sparkle on my own_  
_And someday love will find me in the rough_  
_Someday love will finally be enough_

_~ "In the Rough" by Anna Nalick_

* * *

We got to Manhattan and the newsies were all waiting in the Square for the trio when we got back. I think they were all happy to see me, and surprised. Wasn't I supposed to be gone longer, they asked. I got lots of hugs, but Race sort of beat down the happiness by asking where Spot was. I now knew that whatever Jack did, Spot usually jumped in right away. They were friends, and friends stuck together. But not this time. I wondered why that was.

Jack explained Spot's concern, and the boys all readily clamored in to say that maybe they shouldn't go through with this. Without the support of Brooklyn, none of the other boroughs would join us. It would just be us, and we wouldn't win that way.

"Spot was right, is this just a game to you guys?" Jack asked, frowning at the lack of support.

"Just because we ain't got Brooklyn, does that mean we gotta scrap this whole thing? I mean. With or without him, you guys started this thing. We gotta show Brooklyn that we're serious! It's the only way," I put in, hoping to perk up Jack's spirit a little.

"How we gonna do that, Angel? Without Spot, we ain't got no chance," Race said, smoking his cigar.

"Nobody else'll join if we ain't got Brooklyn," Skittery added, frowning as always.

"_Carpe diem_," I said simply.

"What?" every Manhattan newsie stared at me like I'd gone off the deep end. But one newsie knew what I had said. And I was so happy, I nearly hugged him.

"It means 'seize the day'," Dave explained to them.

"Well, what the hell's that mean?" Race asked.

"It means, you've gotta attack the day!" Dave explained. "It means to enjoy the day you've got. And for us, it means fight until we can't anymore!"

The boys nodded their understanding. I looked over at Jack and I could see the wheels turning in his head violently.

"That's right, you guys!" he shouted, ever the leader. "With or without Spot, we started this strike and we're going to see it through! We're gonna show Spot that we're serious so that he'll hafta join us! And the others will join, too! We can't give up now! We got a strike to win!"

The boys cheered their response and I was glad. We didn't need Spot! Well, okay, _I_ didn't need Spot.

"So, are we gonna seize the day or what?" Jack shouted and then newsies cheered once more, but fell silent at the sound of the circulation bell. "Anybody heah dat?"

**"NO!"** was the resounding answer.

"So what we gonna do about it?" Jack asked.

**"SOAK 'EM!"**

And so began the mass exodus of empowered newsies towards the Distribution Center to fight for their rights and, well, soak people. I shuffled after them, delighted to be a part of this.

The Manhattaners surrounded the scabs. Most of us were in the landing around the Distribution Center, but some came around the back, boxing the scabs in. Right from the beginning, three young newsboys dropped their papes and came peaceably into our midst, earning pats on the backs for their efforts.

The next guy didn't look too intent on joining. He stared at Jack and then tried to push through, but the boys pushed back. The he tried going around, but they pushed him back again. He turned to face Jack again. Dave tried to be the voice of reason, but to no avail. Jack smacked the guy's papers down to the ground, and it was on.

I used the techniques I'd learned from Silver to fight, but it didn't take long. The scabs ran like cowards and we then proceeded to trash the place. I even helped rip up newspapers, dancing around with the younger boys like it was some kind of surprise birthday party. We had won! In my head, I gave the newsies a tick mark. So the score was one to zero, in our favor.

The victory was short lived, because at the sound of "Cheese it! It's the bulls!" we all ran like hell. I shuffled out the younger boys, not wanting them to get caught up with the police. We reached the Lodging House and, after we all caught our breath, we started laughing like maniacs. The younger boys were jazzed about having gotten to fight, and the other boys were just happy they made it out without getting caught.

"Wait a second," Jack said, when everybody had started to calm down. His eyes scanned our faces. "Where's Crutchy?"

My eyes darted around the group of boys, but he was right. No Crutchy. Ice coursed through my veins. Penny, a young boy around nine and Jack's only 'birdie', came running in, panting like crazy. One of the boys gave him some water and he looked up at Jack.

"They got 'im, Jack," Penny said, slightly out of breath. "The Delancy's. I saw 'em take Crutchy away. He didn't even have a chance."

I frowned, horrified, and then screamed. Loudly. I tore my hat off and threw it on the ground, swearing so violently that a sailor would blush, most of it in Gaelic. I ran up the steps and climbed up onto the roof.

I didn't know how long I sat there, just smoking through my cigarettes and glaring at the sky. It was weird how easily I lost track of time. But I didn't care. I hardly cared about much anymore. Not being with Spot anymore made me feel slightly reckless. I didn't need him. I didn't want him. Right?

_She was ten years old. Daddy made some nasty remarks to her recently, touching her back the way he used to touch Mommy's back. So she was running now. Running down the dirt road, towards Mister Conlon's carpentry business. He built houses all over Tralee, and he was the best. Everyone asked for him specifically, because he was cheap but efficient and Misses Conlon always brought baked goods for the family that he was building a house for._

_"Mister Conlon, is Sean here?" the little girl asked, when she reached the threshold of the building where he worked from._

_Sean's father, Patrick, looked up from working out some blueprints, wiping his forehead, looking at the small girl in surprise. "Lissa O'Rouke. It is so good to see your pretty face around here," he said, but it wasn't like when her Daddy spoke to her that way. Mister Conlon was a friend, someone to trust, someone to hold onto tightly and not let go. Just like…_

_"Da', where do you want me to put this…?"_

_Sean dropped the pile of wood he was carrying, probably shocked to see her. She wondered how terrible she looked, with her mussed hair and her rumpled dress. She must have looked horrible with tears in her eyes. Sean came over to her, taking her hand, leading her out to the back and under the big oak tree. _Their_ big oak tree._

_"What did he do now?" Sean asked, shining blue eyes peering into her own apple green ones. She was nervous to tell him. It really was no big deal, just like Daddy said._

_"Nothing. I just wanted to see you," she said, not convincing her friend in the least. He knew her better than that. He knew that way better than that._

_"Don't lie to me, _mo ghrá_," Sean whispered, forehead against hers. She wanted time to stop there. She wanted to shrink down and crawl into his breast pocket, to live forever near his heart, falling asleep to the beat of it in her ear._

_"I am not your _ghrá_," Lissa insisted, but Sean kissed her cheek anyways. She didn't push him away._

_"No, you are much more then that, and you know it," Sean hugged her tightly and she sighed, looking up at the gray Irish sky. "Lissa, listen to me."_

_"I am listening," she said, looking back at him. He was so cute, with his tousled dishwater blond hair, his beautiful blue eyes, and his determination. He was so strong, so smart, so wonderful. And she was just… wrong. Dirty. Weak._

_"We are going to get out of here, Lissa. I promise you that. Me and you, we're going to New York City. Don't you want that?" Sean peered at her. She knew she couldn't do it. She couldn't be strong like him._

_"Yes, I do," she murmured, her face buried into his shoulder, so he wouldn't see the lies in her eyes._

_"Good, because you and I are going to fight the world, remember?" she could hear the smile in his voice. "Remember, Liss? I'll bring down the moon and cut it into little strips and—"_

_"—Tie them in my hair," Lissa finished for him, lifting her head to smile at him. "I know. It's going to be great, Sean. But it's not great now. And it won't be great until we're on that boat together."_

_He had nothing to say to her then. Just brushed her hair with his hand and kissed her forehead. He let that be enough. And it was enough._

Behind me, I heard the door open and I felt another wave of irritation hit. "Jack Kelly, I toldja not to come back up here or I'd soak ya. Now get the hell out," I hissed angrily.

"You wouldn't turn me away, wouldja, Angel?"

I dropped my cigarette and ran headlong into him. God, I was so happy to see him. I couldn't believe he came to see me. I just couldn't believe it. Not after today.

"You came. I knew you'd come," I said, nearly in tears.

"Couldn't let ya leave like ya did without comin' to see ya," he murmured. "And 'sides, I just can't stay away."

"They got him, Silver," I whispered. "The Delancy's. They took Crutchy away."

"I know they did, Angel. It's all right," Silver kissed my cheek and it comforted me. I sighed and leaned against him, letting him hold me. "How are you holdin' up, love?"

I almost started crying. But I couldn't do that to myself. Crying was weakness, and I was not weak anymore. "I miss him all ready, Silver. I miss him so much," I whispered, embarrassed by my weakness for a boy who couldn't care less if I dropped dead.

"Oh, my poor Angel," Silver sighed, touching my hair nervously. I wanted to flinch, but I liked the comfort. And I knew he was safe. He wouldn't hurt me. "It's all right to miss 'im. You'se in love, yeah?"

I nodded. "I hate it. I want to be mad at him, but I know if I see him again, I'll forgive him. And I hate that, Silver. I hate it."

Silver leaned back and took my face in his hands, gently since my bruise was yellowing now, but still slightly tender. "That's what you do when ya love somebody, Angel. Ya look past there faults and ya love them wit' everythin' ya got in ya."

"I can't love somebody that hurts me, Silver. I can't do that to myself anymore. I've tried, and I can't," I sniffled, half ready to cry. I didn't want to, but the tears were building quickly.

"Angel, Spot Conlon hurts himself much more then he hurts you'se. I know that's real hard to understand, but he hasn't been the same now that you'se gone. Just sits on ya bed and stares at the wall. That's part of why I'se came here. He was creepin' me out."

I laughed slightly, but it sounded funny since I was half-choked with sobs. It was good to know I wasn't the only one suffering. Spotn Conlon deserved to suffer a bit for what he'd put me through.

"I brought ya stuff back, so the boids wouldn't have to. 'Sides, I wanted an excuse to see ya," Silver said. I sniffled and rubbed my eyes, nodding softly.

"Thank you," I said softly.

Silver shook his head, waiting until I looked up at him to speak again. "Spot ain't right for most people. He's tough and he's cold and he's real hard to love and be close to. But he needs ya, Angel. He's too much of a bastard to tell ya that right now, but he ain't nothin' without ya."

"I can't believe that," I said softly. "He doesn't need me anymore. Maybe he did when we came over on that boat, but he doesn't now. He's got Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn can't hold a candle to you'se, Angel, and ya know it. Ya brought out the best of of that guy and now he's rottin' away in Brooklyn all 'cause you'se walked out."

I was reminded of what Diana had told me when this all started. Of how I bring the best out of people. I wondered if she'd been right, but banished the thought. I wasn't good for anyone.

"You really think that, Silver, or are you just saying that so I won't cry?" I smiled up at him.

"I'se think that, and Spot thinks that. So, get used to it, Angel. You'se a good goil, and if Spot don't know that all ready, then he's the biggest asshole I'se ever met."


	11. that girl is just like me

**Okay, so this is my favorite chapter of all time. So far. This was my favorite part of the movie, and my favorite chapter. **

**And another thing, re-watch this part of the movie in Youtube. As Spot says his cute little line in his cute voice, the boy to the left of him is who I think Silver is. He's always stood out to me for some reason (when I wasn't drooling over Gabe) so I made him one of my OCs. So, there. I told you Silver was in the movie!**

**Oh, and before I forget. _Mo ghrá_ means 'my love' in Gaelic.**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

* * *

_She lives and breathes in a world that brought her to her knees  
And now I'm addicted to her 'c__ause that girl is just like me  
And I'm gonna choke on her life again  
I'm breathing it in like a deadly poison.  
I just want to get through to her,  
Before her last breath_

_~ "Adalia" by Madina Lake_

* * *

We stood outside the Distribution Center. And I was pumped as hell. Talking with Silver the night prior had really boosted my confidence in the fact that I could do this. I could do this. I could be strong. And I wasn't just severely excited that Spot was back in Brooklyn moping.

Well, okay, that was some of it. A lot of it. Most of it, actually.

So, anyways, we stood outside. After another rousing speech from Jack Kelly, we were all there, staring down the scabs because we were going to fight for our rights. They didn't look as nervous today, probably because they knew they weren't going to win. It would be funny watching their faces as we beat them down again today.

"Everyone remain calm," Dave said, ever the voice of reason.

He and Jack exchanged looks, like they were both trying to outdo the other one. Jack looked back at the scabs, thinking for a few moments.

"Let's soak 'em for Crutchy!" he shouted and we charged like the cavalry into battle, heads held high and confidence billowing out of our ears.

I didn't hear what Race said, but he looked scared as he ran back towards Jack. I craned my neck and saw big giant men wielding bats and chains. If my eyes could fall out of my head, they would have because they got so wide so quickly. I stumbled backwards, frightened as hell. The crips surrounded Jack, keeping the rest of the newsies out so they couldn't reach in to help him.

He fell back against the stairs of the yard, trying not to look nervous but I knew he was. I felt someone behind me grab my elbows, pulling my arms back to keep me still. I was stiff. Numbness started spreading through my shoulders and down my arms. I was terrified now.

"It's Brooklyn!" Mush cried, just when all seemed lost.

I looked up as everyone cheered. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see the bastard in my entire life. Silver winked at me and the Brooklynites took aim, letting marbles and small rocks fly all over the place. One after the other after the other.

"Hey, Spot!" Jack called, waving, before being attacked by two guys.

Spot grabbed the hook nearby and plummeted down, kicking the guys that held onto Jack. He was always the brave one, always the one to take risks, and jump from fire escapes with only a flimsy little rope holding him. Oh, God, forgive me.

Silver came down next, pushing through the crowds, punching as he went, until he got to me. "Duck!" he told me, and I bent forward just as he punched the guy holding me and I was free. I gasped and toppled into him. Silver grasped me firmly and I looked up at him. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," I gasped, my face flushed with excitement and fear.

"Good, now go!" Silver smiled devilishly and I wasn't really sure why he was. He disappeared into the crowd and a hand grasped my elbow. I was not going to put up with this anymore.

I whirled around, fist raised, until another hand grabbed my fist and blue eyes stared into mine. "Lissa, I'm sorry," he said quietly, almost so I couldn't hear him.

I shook my head. "This is hardly the time," I said loudly, over the sound of fighting.

"Then forgive me," he insisted.

I nodded. "Fine, fine. I forgive you. Can I go now?"

"Yeah," he smiled, pleased, and turned to go.

"Spot," I grabbed his hand and he turned back around, curious this time. I leaned in close and his mouth brushed mine, so lightly, but I grinned. "Jus' wanted to say that I knew you'd come."

I plucked the hat from his head and disappeared into the crowd, using his hat to stuff up my hair into. I punched and fought until Spot wretched the gates open and the rest of the Brooklynites stormed in, pushing the scabs back easily.

I smiled and turned around when the trio of Brooklyn's birdies caught my arm. I smiled at Flint, Avery and Sneak, who were grinning at me. I spit shook with each of them and then we proceeded to do the stupidest dance known to man at the time. The three were so completely jazzed, that it jazzed me, too.

I let out a squeal when arms came around me from behind, picking me up and spinning me around once. I turned around, expecting Silver, but came face to face with shining blue eyes and the biggest smile I'd ever seen.

"So ya knew I'd come, didja?" he asked.

I shrugged, smirking slightly, mocking him. "A little _boidy_ told me."

He smiled again and hugged me tightly, and I didn't mind. His hug was much stronger than the ones he gave me when we were children, but he was still strong. The cockles of my heart constricted around each other when I felt his hands move down to the small of my back. It felt right. _He_ felt right.

"I'm sorry 'bout what I said before," he said gently. Oh, God, he was so delicious. "Ya were right about what ya said. About me bein' good at bein' alone and about me being only into meself. And I don't like it. I was hopin' ya could gimme another shot."

I leaned back and put on a thoughtful face. Spot smirked at me and I pretended my heart didn't flop all over itself inside the cave of my chest.

"Well, I guess I can give ya another chance," I decided after a few moments, smiling when he pulled me back against him.

His body was warm against mine, damp from fighting, his blue eyes still gleaming with pride and exhilaration of battle, but his jaw wasn't set tight like it usually was. He was staring at me and I looked away, even though I knew he could see right into my pupils, down my throat and into my soul.

"Quit lookin' at me like that," I whispered, embarrassed beyond belief.

He didn't say a word for a long moment, until one slipped through.

"Lissa."

His mouth met mine and we kissed. His hands tightened on my back and I gripped his shoulders and the kiss started surging into something more than just a kiss. My body was flush against his. I couldn't breathe. I could've died right there, content and sated, kissing this boy – no, this man – that I thought I would never see again. Like those dime romance novels I used to have to read when I was a rich girl, his hands slid up my back and he kissed me deeply.

Until we parted, and it was over.

He smiled at me and I smiled back. Life was good. Life was really good.

"Well, finally," a voice said from beside us, and I looked up at Jack Kelly, who was grinning at me.

I shrugged and ducked out of Spot's arms, still wearing his cap, since I loved seeing his hair. "Let's go, boys. I'm hungry and someone is gonna to buy me lunch."

Later, back at the Lodging House, I was left alone after Spot and Jack decided that it was probably a good idea to discuss the next phase of the strike. I had no business sitting there with them while they discussed leader-type things, despite the fact that Spot tried to keep me at his side. I merely fished a cigarette out of his pocket so I could go smoke. He didn't let me get away without kissing my mouth roughly. If I didn't know him better, I would've been pissed as hell.

But what he didn't know was I like that arrogance around him. I liked him looking so confident. It was… sexy.

I plucked Spot's hat from my head, shaking my head violently to release my long hair, which billowed down my back. I ran my fingers through my hair and placed the cap on Spot's head, winking playfully at him before I shuffled for the door.

"Dave, wanna come with?" I asked, heading out the door before getting his answer. I didn't see the angry glare that Spot sent Dave as he walked out after me.

I sat down on the stoop, and Dave contented himself to watch me smoke, probably thinking. It made me nervous to be under such scrutiny. Spot's eyes never bothered me, because I was used to be watched by him. And I grew to be all right with the Manhattaners watching me, too, when they finally found out I was girl. But I didn't know David, and having him stare at me made ice slide through me. Could he see how wrong I was? Could he see how dirty my soul was when he looked into my eyes?

But I hid it well, stuffing it down under my pride and the mask I had crafted for myself for years. It was painful, because I wasn't sure if he could see who I really was. I almost wanted Spot to come out and save me from this darkness.

"Do you think Spot will join the strike now, Angel?" Dave asked, shattering the silence.

"Dunno, Dave," I admitted, taking another drag. The darkness was clearing. I could think a little better. The cigarette helped. "Today sort of proved that we ain't ready. We couldn't handle it, ya know? If Brooklyn hadn't shown up, we would've been soaked half to death."

"You really think so?" Dave asked, trying to contain his surprise.

I liked this kid. He was smart, and I appreciated smart people.

"Hell yeah." I inhaled more smoke, holding it in my lungs until I felt the burning in my chest. "It was a trap. Didja see those chains? Woulda hurt like hell, it would."

"Can't believe Spot Conlon let his girl fight today," Dave said, thoughtful, before looking over at me.

I rolled my eyes. "I ain't Spot's girl, Dave. I ain't nobody's girl."

"Then why does he kiss you?"

"Because he's a bastard." I laughed and then smiled.

"Well, you two seem close. Why couldn't you talk to him? You know, convince him to join us?" Dave asked, and we both looked at each other at the same time.

"Nobody tells Spot what to do, Dave. Not even me," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully.

Technically, it was a lie. I wasn't really sure how much Spot would fight me if I asked him to do anything for me at this point. But I wasn't sure myself, and Davey didn't need to know that.

"But he likes you. He'd listen to you more than even me or Jack," Dave argued.

I smiled, leaning back on the step behind me. He had more guts than I'd given him credit for. "Yeah, he does like me. And I'd like to keep it that way. I jus' got back on the guy's good side. I don't need him pissed at me no more."

David sighed. "It would just be easier if you just convince him to join. Save us a lot of trouble."

"No kiddin', but life ain't about bein' easy. Spot's got his reasons, whatever the hell they are," I said, smiling.

"Yeah, guess so," he said, glum.

I grinned and flicked my cigarette away onto the dark street, and stood up. "Keep ya head up, Dave. It'll all work out." I tapped the brim of his cap and shuffled back into the Lodging House, where Spot and Jack were leaning against Kloppman's counter, talking, but Spot was holding his cane intently, knuckles white.

He was angry, but I couldn't imagine why.

"I'm goin' to bed," I announced, and the two leaders immediately looked up at me at the same time.

Spot looked at Dave, who didn't come any closer than he'd all ready gotten, and I rolled my eyes as Spot gave him an eye-soak. Jack just grinned at the silent display. I was glad at least he was enjoying this. What a bum.

"I'll be up later, Angel," Spot said, never taking his eyes from David's.

I rolled my eyes again. "Won't hold my breath, Conlon," I muttered and then shuffled up the steps.

I heard Jack snicker and a muffled thump that sounded like Spot had given him a shove, just messing around. I didn't listen in on the rest of their conversation. I was thinking. I sat down on my cot, after wiggling out of my trousers and unbuttoning my shirt. I reached under my bunk and retrieved the most precious item that I still kept with me. A music box.

My mother had given it to me, when she wasn't too embarrassed and guilty to look at me, but it was locked. Never back home had it ever been locked, and I kept my treasures in there. But it was locked now, and I had no way of opening it. I didn't want to pick the lock, because I knew the key was out there somewhere.

I ran my thumb across the familiar roughness of the keyhole, comforted by the feel of it. Sometimes if I pressed my nose to the top of it, I could still smell Ireland, as silly as it was.

My skin prickled slightly when the bunk sank slightly behind me and a strong, rugged, warm hand pushed my shirt aside slightly to kiss my shoulder. I smiled slightly, setting my music box back under my bed before I leaned back into his waiting arms.

"So what's the verdict, O King?" I murmured into the darkness, his arms warm and strong around me, the only thing keeping me from tipping over the edge of madness.

"I'se in. For now. Me boys thought it was a good idea yesterday. Just needed a good excuse to come heer," he murmured back, breath tickling my hair. "But ya knew that all ready, didn't ya, ya minx?"

I nodded and smiled, pleased by his easy affection. It was so nice to see him act this way with me. I'd waited so long to be with him again, and his softness overwhelmed me. I was used to the confident smirk, the arrogant nod of his head when he was pleased, his smug-ass comments that made half of New York's girls swoon. I wasn't used to this sweet, warm body that was hugging me so tightly that I could scarcely breathe.

I glanced down at my hands, thinking. "Spot?"

"Mmm?" He'd been buried in my shoulder, breathing deeply. I think he was falling asleep.

"Are we still fighting?" I murmured.

"Nah." He leaned up and rubbed his nose against the bone in my cheek. "Why? Do ya wanna fight?"

"Not really." I smiled and turned back to look at him and his mouth touched mine softly, for a few moments. But I pulled away to let out a yawn.

"Ya need tah sleep," he said softly, almost to himself. He ran his fingers through my hair and then let me go. I leaned back on my hand, watching him shuffle until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Sean."

He stopped and turned around to face me. He knew me too well, still, after all these years. He came back to me and leaned down, cupping my neck gently before kissing me one last time.

"I ain't goin' nowhere far. Just wanna talk to Jack," he murmured, but I knew it was a lie. He was going to talk to Dave, but I was too tired to fight him about it. "Jus' go to sleep,_ ghrá_," he purred, his Irish making my mouth water. "I'll be here when ya wake up."

"Promise?"

"Promise."


	12. once a whore, you're nothing more

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

* * *

_Second chances they don't ever matter, people never change._  
_once a whore you're nothing more, I'm sorry, that'll never change._  
_And about forgiveness, we're both supposed to have exchanged._  
_I'm sorry honey, but I'm passin' up, now look this way._  
_Well there's a million other girls who do it just like you._  
_Looking as innocent as possible to get to who,_  
_They want and what they like. _  
_It's easy if you do it right._  
_Well I refuse, I refuse, I refuse!_

_~ "Misery Business" by Paramore_

* * *

The next morning, as always, I got up before everyone else. Just like he promised, when I woke up, I found the sleeping form of the Brooklyn leader cuddled up against mine, his arm draped across my waist. I blushed. He and I had never slept in the same bed before, but I liked it. I liked it a lot.

I pulled out of his grip slowly, sliding to the floor quietly, watching until he settled back into sleep before I pulled my trousers back on and did my morning routine. I tied up my hair and sat back slowly on my bunk, pulling my cap on, wondering where I would get breakfast this morning. Would I snitch it, or would I actually pay for it? I stiffened slightly when a warm hand touched my hip gently and I looked down at Spot, who was grinning up at me like a damn fox, despite being sleepy.

"Ya look funny," I said softly.

"Whaddya mean?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes slightly.

"You look like someone's been doin' _this_ all night," I murmured and then leaned down, pushing his shoulder back against the bunk, kissing him a little recklessly. His mouth responded instantly, kissing me back, his hand pulling my arm like he wanted me to climb on top of him, but I wasn't moving. I wasn't about to give him what he wanted. That would suck the fun out of everything.

He groaned when I pulled away and I smiled, resting my head against his collarbone.

"I can't think when ya do that," he said softly, sounding breathless, like he'd just run full speed from Brooklyn to Manhattan and back. I tried not to feel thrilled that I, Alyssa O'Rourke, had rendered the King of Brooklyn breathless.

"Sorry," I said innocently, and he grinned again, before lowering his mouth to my neck. I felt a pinch and yelped, sitting up instantly, my hand clapping over the red mark. "You bit me!" I said, surprised, heat flushing up my neck.

Spot placed his hands behind his head and smirked, eyes closed. "You desoived it, ya minx."

I stood up. "Well, I'm gettin' breakfast. You comin'?" I asked. He opened one eye to look at me.

"Well, if you'se up, then it must be an ungodly hour, so no, prob'ly not. But I'll be heah when ya get back." He grinned again and I rolled my eyes, tossing my cap at him as an afterthought.

"Go swing on it, Conlon," I told him before I marched out of the Lodging House to get myself some food.

Instead of going and buying something, I snitched some fruit from the open air market in the lower part of Manhattan, sitting in Central Park, just enjoying the morning air. I smiled to myself as I bit into a sweet pear.

"Damn, I love this town," I muttered, and I did.

New York City was my liberation. I was free. Free from my father, free from the heavy weight of Ireland and the bittersweet feelings there. But I loved it here. I would never want to leave. It was too great. And the air was cool, but not cold, and it filled my nostrils and I drank it in. After a while, I decided to mosey back to the Lodging House, seeing everyone pretty much up all ready.

Jack made the announcement that we weren't going to soak the scabs today. I figured it probably wasn't his priority at this point, but everyone was just fine with laying low for the day.

I ignored Spot's little fox grin, since I was sure he was waiting for me to come back to him, but I wasn't giving in. I went and sat down on Race's bunk, giving Blink a quick wink. "So, Race, can I bum a cigar from ya?" I asked.

He straightened up from lacing his boots and went through his things, looking for a cigar he could give me, but I knew all ready that Blink had it. This was the game we had been running for years, since the first day I got there when I was eleven. Stealing Race's cigars and then teasing him about him misplacing his things until one of us put it back where 'he was sure he left it' and enjoying a good laugh at his expense. This morning was no different.

"Damn it, where'd I put it?" Race muttered, checking his usual hiding spots before standing up. He'd gotten smarter, since Snipeshooter liked taking them from him.

"Maybe it's in the washroom, Race," Blink offered from above me, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe…" he muttered, deep in thought as he went for the washroom to look. Blink jumped down from the bunk and placed it under some of Race's things but he came back in too soon and Blink sat down beside me and I leaned against his arm to stifle my giggles.

"I wasn't in the washroom las' night," Race said, giving Blink and I weird looks. "Weren't you'se up top when I left?"

"Wanted tah come down and say 'hey' tah me good friend Angel," Blink said, patting my head as if I were a child. We smiled like angels and Race went back to looking for his cigar in his things.

He swore when he found it. "Damn, right where I left it!"

Blink and I laughed hard, and everybody but Race knew why it was so funny.

**:-:-:-:-:**

At Tibby's, I sat with Spot easily and shoveled my sandwich down, washing it away with some water. Spot just smiled quietly beside me. We all looked up when Denton walked in, Jack's newspaper friend, who worked very hard to get our story out and what we were doing. Today, though, he was carrying a newspaper in his hands and Spot and I both jumped out of our seats when Denton put it down in front of Jack.

I smiled as Spot pestered Jack about himself like a annoyoing child, until Jack told him to stop thinking about himself, sending me a wink and I grinned at his cheekiness. I was jazzed greatly.

"Talk about gettin' in the papes, boys!" I praised them, nodding happily. I leaned back against one of the tables and crossed my arms. Even Dave was pumped. I was sure he never thought we were going to get a break like this.

"So what. Ya getcha pictah in the papes, so what's that getcha, huh?" Skittery asked, earning hell from every jazzed newsie in the restaurant.

"Glum and dumb," Race said, giving Skitts' face a shove. "Whassa mattah whitchu? Ya in the papes, you're famous! Ya famous, you get anything you want! _That's_ what's so great about New York!" Race said, and everyone agreed and cheered.

"It ain't gonna stay this way forever, though," Jack said, bringing everyone back down from Cloud Nine. "We gotta do somethin'. Somethin' big. So let's have some ideas."

In the end, Jack and David agreed on having a rally, to get all the newsies in New York the word out about the strike, and that Brooklyn was in, since the last they heard, Spot still had to 'think about it.' I had stayed quiet through their exchange, since I wasn't really confident in this Denton guy. Could adults really be trusted to help out us kids?

But it really wasn't Denton's fault. Only a few adults in my life could be trusted.

When they were all done, though, I volunteered myself to go down to Irving Hall to talk Medda into letting us use her Hall for the rally. Jack thought it was a great idea, so I was off. I stopped at my chair to slurp down the rest of my water and looked at Spot when I couldn't ignore him looking at me anymore.

"Now what?" I asked, knowing that look on his face. I stuffed my hair up into my cap again, frowning when he stood up.

"Are ya gonna be gone long?" he asked, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Ya don't trust me out there alone, Your Highness?" I peered at him, pressing my lips together to contain my annoyance. I didn't like being policed. It irritated me.

"It ain't that. Just don't want ya jumped, Angel. Ain't I allowed to worry 'bout ya?"

I shrugged and crossed my arms. "I guess, but I don't need your obsessin'. I can take care of myself, ya know."

"I know ya can. It ain't you I don' trust. It's everyone else," he said, looking over my shoulder, eye settling on a newsie elsewhere. I turned and followed his eyes to where David sat and punched him in the arm.

"Jesus, _all right_," Spot muttered, rolling his eyes. "But if ya come home with a black eye, I'se gonna laugh at ya."

I smiled up at him and leaned up on my toes to reach his ear. "Liar," I whispered playfully.

Spot gripped my elbows and took a step back, looking… odd. His eyes weren't completely predatory, but they definitely weren't soft either. "Yeah, well, just be careful, okay? I want ya in one piece when Patch get here, so I can show ya off."

He kissed my forehead and then left me. I grinned quietly and ducked my head, slipping out of Tibby's. I wondered quietly, as I was walking, how many girls Spot Conlon had been with that had ever left him sexually frustrated. It was thrilling.

I shuffled into Irving Hall, smiling because I was so happy to see Medda again, when I stopped short. The smile wiped from my face and I crossed my arms, seeing the ballet teacher, Mademoiselle Fulke, teaching a new girl. Well, she wasn't new. Not by a long shot.

"Angel! Darling! I thought I would never see you again!" she shouted across the empty Hall, her voice grating along my nerves.

I clenched my fists and counted to five in my head, slowly, while Mademoiselle Fulke shushed her new student for losing focus. Medda shuffled out from behind the curtain and let out a little yell, coming down quickly to embrace me. I smiled slightly and hugged her back. She was like the mother I never got to have.

"Oh, Lissa! It is so good to see you!" Medda exclaimed. "Have you met our new student? Desiree, come here, darling," Medda motioned her over and the closer the little twit fluttered, the angrier I got. I had reason now, though. Spot was mine this time.

"Hello again, Desiree," I said sweetly, through clenched teeth.

Desiree smiled back in the same way. "You as well, Angel. Or do you prefer Lissa?"

I frowned. "I'd rather you called me Angel, if ya don't mind."

"Not at all. It's so good to have someone to talk to. I feel we'd gotten off on the wrong foot the other day, don't you find?"

I forced myself not to roll my eyes. "Indeed," I muttered and then looked up at Medda again. "I'm sorry, I really didn't come to chat. I actually came to ask a favor. It's for Jack."

Medda smiled at me. "What's he need, dear?"

"Well, he was talking about having a rally, to get all the newsies involved with the strike. You know, the strike," I said, thinking hard. "And I came to ask if we might borrow the Hall tomorrow night. I hope that's okay."

"Oh, goodness, that sounds like fun!" Medda beamed. "You tell Jack that he can have his rally here. Oh, and we must have entertainment! Those boys are always looking for a good show."

I grinned, happy she was so easy to get along with. She really was the best. "Why don't you sing, then? They love it when you sing."

Medda nodded. "Oh, and Lissa! You could dance. If you're up to it. It's been a while."

"If I could dance in the streets without getting funny looks, you know I would," I told her. I loved dancing. Ballet was… everything. Well, almost everything. Spot was in there somewhere on my list of things I adored.

Desiree looked at Medda. "Do you think I could dance, too? I've been itching to get on stage, and I've been working so hard the past few weeks."

Medda nodded. "Yes, of course. Let's see. We could make it a duet! As long as you don't mind, Lissa. I know you'd much rather dance with Diana."

My heart ached a little at her name. Oh, my Diana. How I wished I could've been like her.

"No, that's all right. I've had a dance rattling in my brain for a while now. Besides, you've got to have your first performance sometime. Why not with me?" I joked, but inside I was raging. I couldn't share the stage with that stupid twit! And Spot would be at the damn rally, so she'd be all over him. Oh, it just made me so angry.

Medda smiled. "Good. You tell Jack Kelly that he can have his rally here. Friday, you said?"

I nodded. "Yes ma'am. I'll tell him right now. Thanks a lot, Medda!" I reached up to hug her and she hugged back. "Bye, Des," I said sweetly, waving at her before I darted out of the Hall.

This time, I wouldn't let her intimidate me. Spot Conlon was mine now. And I wasn't giving him up. Especially not to the likes of her.


	13. i don't wanna lose her

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

* * *

_We were young and times were easy_  
_But I could see its not the same_  
_We're standing here but you don't see me_  
_I'd give it all for that to change_  
_I dont want to loose her_  
_I dont wanna let her go._

_~ "Before the Storm" by Miley Cyrus and Nick Jonas (judge and you die.)_

* * *

I kept the fact that I'd seen Desiree to myself when I got back to the Lodging House. When I got there, though, I was told to go upstairs since everyone was waiting for me there. I rolled my eyes and pulled my cap off, finding Spot, Jack, a boy I didn't recognize and a pretty girl sitting beside him sitting in the bunk room. They all looked up at me when I headed towards them.

"Angel, glad ya could join us," Jack said as I shuffled over and sat down beside Spot. "This here is the King and Queen of Queens. Patch, Fee, this is Angel, Queen of Brooklyn."

I rolled my eyes but smiled, shaking both of their hands. "Nice to meet you," I said, suddenly shy, but I wasn't exactly sure why that was. Maybe because I wasn't the Queen of Brooklyn…

"Well," the girl, Fee, said, standing up. She was wearing a skirt and she looked beautiful with her hazelnut ringlets piled on top of her head. "While you boys discuss boring things, Angel and I are going to do our own discussin'."

"Have fun, Felicity. You're beautiful," Patch told her and she rolled her eyes.

"Bite me." She smiled at him and then hooked my arm through hers and we climbed up onto the roof together.

We sat down together on the edge of the roof and I bummed a cigarette from Fee when she pulled them out and we smoked together.

"So, you've got to tell me how you managed to land Spot Conlon," she said, smiling at me.

"There's not much to tell," I admitted. "And I didn't _land_ him. We're not even together."

Felicity gave me a silly look. "Do you kiss him?"

I blushed. "Yes."

"A lot?"

"Yes." More blushing.

"Then you're practically together," Fee decided, and smiled at me. "I saw the way you rolled your eyes when Jacky called you queen of Brooklyn. So I figured I'd ask, just in case."

"Well, we pretty much _are_ together," I said, frowning at my cigarette. "He just hasn't asked me to be his girl. But I think we both sort of assumed."

"But it'd be nice if he asked, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Felicity laughed. "Boys are so brainless. You seem really strong, Angel. So grab your balls and ask him if you two are together." She winked. "That's what I had to do with Patch. Damn guy didn't even know I liked him, yet I kept flirting with him to the point of shamelessness."

I laughed. "No kiddin'? That's hilarious."

"Yeah, it was pretty funny," she said, remembering. "He kept askin' his boys if they thought I liked him, but never actually asked me himself. Dumb boys."

I snickered and took a drag of my cigarette, thinking. "So is Patch glad Spot joined the strike?"

Felicity nodded. "Yeah. Him and Spot have been friends for a long time. Brooklyn and Queens is as close as Manhattan and Brooklyn are. So, naturally, since Brooklyn is cool with Manhattan, we're cool with them, too."

I sighed. "Politics," I muttered.

"Exactly!" Fee laughed and took another drag of her cigarette and then smiled at me. "We have to switch cigarettes now."

I looked down at my cigarette and then back at her. "Why?"

"It's for good luck," she said and I shrugged. We switched cigarettes and she smiled at me. "It also means that we're friends now."

I laughed. "Ya coulda just asked me," I teased her and we laughed again.

I'd missed having friends that were girls. Well, girls that weren't catty and annoying. Felicity was actually very nice to me, which surprised me. I'd decided long ago that girls were bad to have as friends, since they did catty things like Desiree. But I was learning that not all girls were childish and irritating.

We sat up on the roof until the sky starting growing darker, and then we moved indoors. I was happy, since I actually had another friend. Ever since becoming a newsie, I'd been having good luck with people liking me. It startled me, because I never thought anybody could like me.

But then again, they didn't really know how messed up I was.

I hugged Felicity goodbye, since it would be a pretty significant walk back to Queens from Manhattan. I yawned slightly and sat down next to Spot again, sighing.

"Have to be gettin' back to Brooklyn, yeah?" I put my head on his shoulder, frowning slightly, so he couldn't see it.

"Yeah, but I'll be back fer dah rally tomarrah," he said gently, and I sighed again, depressed about having him leave so soon. "Speakin' of, do ya wanna go together?"

I rolled my eyes and then lifted my head, peering at him. "That depends."

"On what?"

"Am I going as your girl, or as your best friend?"

Spot gave me a weird look. "I kinda all ready thought you was me girl. I didn't think I had tah ask. But if ya want me to…"

"Might be nice," I commented innocently.

"Angel, wouldja like to be me girl and come to the rally as me girl?" Spot glanced down at me from the corner of his eyes and smiled his little fox smile at me.

"Yeah, sure."

He laughed and then leaned down, brushing our lips together. "There. Now you'se officially Queen of Brooklyn."

Spot left shortly after and I smiled. I was sad to see him go, but I needed time to think of how I was going to drop the news to him about Desiree. Jiminy, tomorrow was going to be a bittersweet day.

**:-:-:-:-:**

The next day, I left bright and early for Irving Hall, snagging breakfast from the nuns on the way. I got extra, since there had been a significant loss of newsboys coming to them for coffee and bread, so I stopped, thanking them after reciting my Hail Mary. I jogged the rest of the way to Irving Hall, waiting for almost a full hour before Desiree decided to grace me with her presence.

"Glad ya finally showed up, ya stupid twit," I stood up and rolled my eyes. "Now then, go in the back and get dressed. I only got a few hours to teach ya this before the rally this evenin' and I really don't got the patience for this."

Desiree climbed up onto the stage and glared hard at me. "Where the hell do you get off telling me what to do?"

"I don't _get off_ telling you what to do," I informed her, actually not getting angry with her. I just was sick of this childishness. "You and I both know we don't like each other, and I want to get this over with."

"Oh, yeah? Are you just pissed because Spotty likes me best?" Apparently she wasn't getting sick of the childishness.

I smiled at her. "Ain't ya heard? I'm queen of Brooklyn now."

Desiree smiled as if she knew a secret I didn't and I decided to ignore it. I hated cat fights. They were stupid and useless. Besides, I'd won.

Not that it mattered to me.

I taught her the dance after we'd both changed. She picked it up easily, which was glad. I didn't have much patience left for the stupid girl. When we were ready to go, Sneak burst through the front doors and I jumped off the stage to hug him tightly.

"Heya, Sneaky. How's it rollin'?" I asked the little birdie.

"Rolls good, Angel." Sneak smiled up at me. "Ya look real pretty."

I blushed. "Thank you. So why are ya here?"

"Spot wants to know where you want to meet him," Sneak said.

I leaned back, thinking, still holding him to me, like a mother would to her child. "Let's see. You tell Spot that I'll meet him at the bridge so we can walk in together. I need to switch shoes. He means now, yeah?"

"Yeah." Sneak grinned. "I'll go tell him. Thanks, Angel!"

Sneak left the Hall and I climbed back on stage, smiling at Desiree. "Let's take it from the top one last time, and then I have to go."

Afterwards, I switched into my boots, leaving my ballet slippers in the back. My slippers were too flimsy anyhow, so I couldn't go outside in them. I must have looked so silly, running in my ballet tutu with my dirty boots on.

"Hey, Conlon!" I called, and the mob of Brooklynites that were making the trek over to Irving Hall stopped dead in their tracks all at once and I heard Silver swear quietly.

I smiled, curtseying nice and low. "I will take your gaping mouths and silence as a compliment, gentlemen. Ya act like ya never seen a girl in a dress before, though," I told them, blushing and grinning.

"Not nobody like you'se, Angel!" a boy called from the back and Spot whirled around, shooting death glares at whoever dared to talk that way to his girl. I rolled my eyes and Silver trotted forward, holding his arm out.

"Wouldja care to have me escort ya, Miss Angel?" Silver grinned like a goof and I smiled sweetly up at him.

"Not at all, kind sir," I grinned back. "...But gimme just a second."

I shuffled back to Spot, who looked embarrassed as his eyes washed over me. From my boots to my tutu, to the ribbons in my hair. I must have looked like a complete loon.

"Ya look real beautiful, Angel," he said finally, clearing his throat, probably embarrassed. "Everybody's gonna be jealous tonight, boys! I got the most beautiful girl in alla New York on my arm."

I hooked my arm through his and smiled when Silver took my other arm, and we continued our trek to Irving Hall, me in between two of my favorite Brooklyn boys.

We reached the Hall, and immediately were attacked, since all the boys that didn't know me, wanted to know who this new girl was that was on Spot Conlon's arm. I stared at my feet every time he introduced me as Brooklyn's Queen, and I just asked everyone to please call me Angel. After a while, though, I had to excuse myself.

"Where ya runnin' to so soon?" Spot asked, just as I was about to get up from my chair beside him.

"I'm dancing tonight. I forgot to mention it." I blushed when he looked shocked. "Wish me luck."

He leaned in and kissed my mouth gently. "Luck."

I switched shoes once more and danced with Desiree. I was annoyed with myself, because Medda had been right. I much preferred dancing with Diana, because she and I were special. When we danced, we sent each other little smiles throughout the performance, sometimes when we passed each other, we whispered good luck. But with Desiree, I focused on dancing, said nothing to her, and was so happy when it was over.

The newsies cheered and we fluttered off the stage. I tore out of my costume and back into my trousers and shirt. I laced my boots up quickly and pushed through the boys to get back to the table, smiling shyly at each compliment and pat on the back I received on the way. I didn't bother with my hat, though. Everyone all ready knew I was a girl.

"That was great, Liss," Spot whispered into my ear when I sat back down. "I never knew ya could dance like that."

I shrugged. "I'm just good at it, I s'pose. But thanks."

We smiled at each other for a moment before Jack bumped Spot on the shoulder and he, Dave, and Jack climbed up onto the stage together. The newsies were cheering and I took this time to notice that there was a girl sitting beside the chair Jack had been in. I leaned across the table and smiled at her.

"Hello. I'm Angel. I don't think we've met before," I said to her. She was pretty in a soft way, with her shining ringlets and her pretty dress. I almost was sorry I changed. Next to her, I was just another dirty street rat.

"I'm Sarah. I didn't know girls could be newsies," she said, and it made me blush.

"Neither did I," I admitted.

I liked her. She was so like the girl I wished I could be. Why was I different? Why couldn't I walk around in dresses with my hair curled, fanning myself with peacock plumes and talking about the opera and the latest gossip? Why couldn't I do that?

"You're with Spot, aren't you?" Sarah asked.

I blushed again. "And you're with Jack. Looks like we both picked good guys."

"Yeah." Sarah looked as shy as I felt. She and Jack were a good match. I'd bet Sarah could keep his head from floating up into the clouds.

Once everyone was relatively calm, Jack grinned out at the Hall filled with newsboys.

"Carryin' dah bannah!" he shouted and the newsies cheered again. I sat back and watched the proceedings.

Jack explained to everyone the reality of their situation. No doubt this is what Spot and Jack were discussing the other day. He said it was only going to get tougher, now that they'd been in the papes and people knew about them and what they were doing. Until Jack said how Dave wanted us to stop soaking the scabs. Of course, Spot readily argued that he was going to continue to soak the scabs, no questions asked.

But Dave made sense. Violence was playing into their hands. Especially senseless violence like soaking the scabs. But Spot wasn't giving up his fight so easily, and the newsies around me started taking sides. Some agreed with Spot and some agreed with Dave.

Until Jack started speaking again. He told us that fighting amongst ourselves was stupid and that the rich guys against us were just waiting for us to do something stupid like civil war so they could get in and crack us down. And we needed to stick together, now more than ever. Because what's a good fight without a great front?

The newsies decided to agree with Jack, and then it was all up to Spot.

"So what do you say, Spot?" Jack asked him.

The Hall fell silent and I felt pride swelling in my chest at the way everyone in the room was hanging on his every word, waiting to hear if he really did join the strike. Only I knew that he all ready had. I didn't even think Jack knew that Spot was behind him.

Spot's eyes found mine instantly, and I tilted my head towards Jack a little, my eyes begging him to understand what I'd meant. _Don't be a jerk. Just agree and get it over with, ya damn cocky bastard._

"I say," Spot informed him, turning back to look at Jack. "That what you say… is what I say."

The newsies cheered once again as the two leaders spit-shook. It was good that the newsies see that Brooklyn and Manhattan were in this together, so there'd be no room for arguing it, in case something went wrong. All the others that hadn't joined would probably join after this night, just because of the public display of Spot 'joining' with Jack. I smiled as Medda took the stage and the newsies cheered impossibly louder.

Spot came back to sit beside me and I was terribly proud of him. But I didn't get much time to stay with him and tell him I was proud, since I was pulled from my seat by Felicity to dance and Patch took my seat next to Spot. I hardly minded.

"So how was it dancing with Desiree?" Fee asked as she pulled me through the dancing newsies.

"Hideous," I admitted. "But she's not around now. It's better that way."

We danced and danced but the song was over after a while, but we were still dancing, whirling around and around, laughing.

Until we heard the police whistles.

**:Whip pan to third person!:**

Angel swore when she saw how many bulls were pouring into the Hall, and she ran to shuffle the Brooklyn birdies out the back door, so they were safe. Spot pushed through the frightened kids and grabbed Angel. She turned to him, her eyes wild with fear and exhilaration.

"Come on! Let's go, Angel!" he shouted over the roar of newsies. She was nervous, he could tell, but she would never actually speak her fear out loud. She never had. Not once.

But she was thinking calmly. Her brain hadn't completely lost itself to the chaos around her. But she was nervous and jumpy. She wretched her hand from Spot's when one of the bigger Crips went after Sneak, who refused to get away with the others because he wanted to help Angel. She kicked the brute from behind and attacked him as he toppled over, raining her fists into his face.

"Go, Sneak! Get outta here!" she shouted to him, letting out a growl as she pulled off the guy and came face to face with Morris Delancy. Angel bared her teeth, ready for a fight.

Spot whirled around, having realized he'd lost Angel in the mob of chaos. He pushed through the mass of kids, just in time to see Morris Delancy's foot jam into Angel's ribs, sending her body crumbling to the floor like an old, discarded doll.

Spot Conlon saw red.

He charged at Morris, grabbing his neck with his hands and toppling him over with the force of his momentum. He kicked him hard in the stomach, just so he knew what it was like.

Silver had seen Angel go down and he jumped over heads to get to her. She was coughing and holding her stomach, and he helped her up. "You'se okay?" he shouted over the ruckus.

Angel nodded, not ready to go down just yet. Silver pulled Spot off of Morris, since they both knew that Spot would have murdered him brutally right there just for kicking Angel. Silver turned to grab Angel, but she was gone again.

"Damn it, where is she?" Spot shouted, to no one. He was frustrated and irate as hell.

"Spot, look out!" Silver tried to warn him, but his voice was drowned out in the melee. One of the bulls had seen Spot attack Morris and he was dragging Spot out the door, but Spot wasn't going quietly. He was shouted and swearing and the cop had to pull the young leader out because he wasn't going willingly.

"Find Angel, Silver! Find her!" Spot shouted and Silver ducked into the crowd again to look for his queen.

Little did either of them know, Angel had been carried out by two large boys, a hand covering her mouth so she couldn't scream. The last thing Angel saw before passing out from pain was two familiar faces and grimy yellow teeth inside a grinning mouth.


	14. you never, ever let me in

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

* * *

_And I'll swim the ocean for you_  
_The ocean for you_  
_Whoa, oh Kelsey_  
_And you never ever let me in_  
_You never, ever let me in._

_~ "Kelsey" by Metro Station_

* * *

Spot didn't get any sleep the night he spent in the jail cell. He paced constantly, back and forth, too worried to sleep. He worried about Angel, and Silver. He worried about his boys and wondered how many of them had been caught in the crossfire. None of them had been arrested, which was good. And Silver hadn't been arrested, either, so Brooklyn would at least have him to keep them in line.

But Spot was terrified. He didn't want to get out of jail and find out that Angel was dead, or half dead, or anything like that. He wanted her to be just fine. But he'd seen the way Morris kicked her ribs and the way she slumped so easily. Sure, she'd taken a shitload of beatings from her father, but Spot had never been there to protect her. Now was his chance to protect her, and he let her get hurt. He wondered if she'd ever be able to trust him with her life.

He wondered if he would ever be able to trust himself with her life.

The next morning, he tried making light of his own feelings by joking around with Race in court, but it hardly helped. He was anxious to get out, and glad when Denton came to pay the fines. He shuffle out of the courthouse and frowned when he found a very sober-faced Silver waiting for him.

"Spot, you gotta come with me," Silver said, and Spot didn't question it. He followed his friend back to the Manhattan Lodging House.

Inside, there was the pretty Scot girl with dark ringlets and violet eyes. Spot knew Nightshade in passing, since Silver brought her around Brooklyn sometimes and talked about her a lot. But she, too, looked grim-faced and sober.

"Spot, A hate tae be the one tae show ye this," Night said quietly. "Brace yeself. It's no' good."

Spot steeled himself for the worst and Night showed him the bunk where his angel was laying. Her body looked… broken. But her face was calm, serene. There was a nasty bruise on her cheek and just about an inch up from her ear was caked blood over a wound. Night came over, and pulled the blanket down a little, showing Spot the horrible fingerprint bruises on her arms, like someone had shaken her violently…

"Lissa," he murmured, dropping to his knees beside her bed. He almost sobbed. Almost. "She ain't movin'. What's wrong with her, Night?"

Nightshade frowned. "She's in a coma 'a sorts. Self-induced, A 'spect."

"What does that mean?" His voice was weak, choked with grief.

"Means somethin' bad 'appened tae her las' night at the rally. Somethin' real bad. Enough to send 'er skittering away inside herself."

"I don't understand."

Nightshade's frown deepened, thinking of how to explain this oddity to the King himself. "It means that Angel's in there somewhere. Hidin', because she does no' feel safe. A'm sure she jus' passed out last night, but her mind was trying to preserve itself so it forced her tae pull back inside and no' wake up. Her brain's 'fraid that if she wakes up, she'll get hurt again. That's why she's no' awake right now."

"Somethin' bad happened last night, so her brain put her in a coma to… what? Why did this happen?" Spot was getting frustrated. Too many emotions were hitting him at the same time.

"A have only seen it meself twice now. When things 'appen like this, it is because of some other traumatic event that's 'appened before tae her. Her body was tryin' tae protect itself, tae protect her from more pain. Woulda hurt much more, had she been awake tae endure this," Night explained quietly. "A 'spect she's been beat before this, though, much worse than this. Am A right, Spot?"

Spot nodded quietly. "Yeah, you're right," he mumbled, voice broken. "Night, would you tell me the truth?"

"Aye, Spot. Anythin'," Nightshade said.

"Did anyone… violate her las' night?"

Spot didn't want to know the answer. He really didn't. It would kill him. It was one thing to have Angel beaten like this and he couldn't protect her, but to have her be put through what her father put her through… Spot knew he wouldn't forgive himself if she'd been abused in that way again.

"No. A checked meself." Nightshade watched Spot's shoulders fall as he started breathing again. She knew this was very hard for him, and felt sorry there wasn't much left she could do to help the girl. "Here, Spot," she said after a moment, handing him the wet rag she'd been holding in her hand. "Why don' ye stay here wit' Angel?"

Spot's fingers grasped the rag in Night's hand and he pressed it against the wound in Angel's head. She didn't move at all, and that's what killed him the most. She couldn't feel pain. She couldn't feel anything.

"Night," Spot looked up at Night again, before she and Silver left the room so he could be alone. "What can we do now?"

Her mouth pressed into a prim line. "Pray."

_She was sitting quietly in her home, right in the middle of the living room. So many ghosts lingered in the walls. So many angry voices, so many cries of pain. Her cries of pain. So many whimpers in the darkness of her room. So many. Too many._

_"Lissie! Lissie, come play with me!" Sean called from outside, and Lissa looked over to the window, seeing him beckoning her outside, a big grin on his face. But she was confused. He was dressed like a newsie. She frowned at him, confused. They were in Ireland again. Why was he dressed that way?_

_"Come _on_, Lissie!" Sean pleaded with her, but she didn't move. She didn't want to move. Her body stayed firmly rooted in the ground, like it was part of the ground._

_Lissa blinked and looked down at her body, seeing her feet and hands covered in dirt, like it was trying to swallow her up. It looked like tree roots were slithering around her forearms, barely touching her elbows. It worried her, but there was nothing she could do. So she just sat, and acted as if the ground would let her go._

_But it never did._

_"Why are you just sitting in here, Alyssa?" a voice asked her and Lissa turned to see who it was that was speaking. It was a little girl with long blonde hair with a faint shade of red mixed in and apple green eyes._

_"I can't leave," Lissa told the girl. "I'm stuck."_

_"Are you? Or do you only think you are stuck?" the girl asked, her head tilting curiously._

_"I _am_ stuck," Lissa told her, frustrated. "I would leave if I could."_

_"Would you, Alyssa? Would you leave?" the girl asked. "Or would you just leave this house and look back at it all the time?"_

_Lissa shook her head. "Please, I just want to get out of here. I don't want to be reminded of the sadness here."_

_The girl smiled. "Then believe you can get out. Believe, Lissa."_

_Lissa looked down at herself, seeing her body uncovered by the dirt. She was just sitting there. She stood up slowly, weakly, as if she hadn't walked in years. The little girl was gone. The door opened and Sean stood there, smiling at her, still dressed like a newsie. Lissa stumbled towards the door, holding herself up by the door._

_"I've been waiting for you, Lissie," Sean told her, smiling. He held out his hand to her, waiting for her to take it. "I've been waiting a long time. Are you ready to leave now?"_

_Lissa placed her hand, nervously, in his and smiled when he bent to kiss her knuckles. "Yes. I'm ready."_

_"Let's go on an adventure, Lissie. Like before. Would you like that?" he beamed up at her, suddenly the little boy again. She looked at herself and found she was younger as well._

_"Yes. Shall we play in the woods then?" Lissa asked and stepped out into the bright, unforgiving, lovely light with Sean._

**:Whip pan to Angel's POV!:**

Have you ever felt the feeling of falling inside your body? Yeah, that's exactly how I felt. I blinked a few times, lifting my heavy arms to rub at my eyes. My arms hurt right below my shoulders. I groaned, irritated at how disoriented I felt.

I looked over, slowly since my head was spinning, and saw Spot Conlon, sitting next to my bed, arms folded on the edge of my bed, sleeping quietly. I smiled slightly, running my hand against his cheek. When he slept, he looked so much like a boy. Oh, he was just so lovely. He didn't wake up, though, just settled into more sleep like I'd not even done a thing.

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling tired still, but not as tired as I thought I'd feel. I looked up when I heard footsteps and saw Nightshade come in, her arms filled with things I was sure she'd gotten from her father, the doctor. She nearly dropped them when she saw me staring at her quietly from my bed.

"Holy—!" Night almost swore. "Boys! She's awake! Get wha' I asked for! _Now_!"

I blinked, my vision swimming as boys buzzed around me. Spot awoke beside me, his palm pressing against my forehead. I blinked a few times, trying to focus on what I could not focus on at all.

"Lass, can ye tell me yer name?" Nightshade asked. I looked up at her, confused.

"What sort of question is that?" I asked, my voice muffled a little.

I saw Spot let out a breathy little laugh and Nightshade smiled slightly. "A think we've got Angel back, boys. Now get me things!"

I rubbed my head again and Night sat down beside me, directing a young boy I didn't know to set a basin of water on the stand next to my cot. Another boy brought something like a trash bin over. I frowned and then grabbed the bin, retching hard into it.

"Someone get the lass some water!" Night ordered as she helped me sit up and a boy brought me a glass of water. I drank greedily and then sat back, groaning in annoyance and pain.

"What the hell happened? I feel like I got trampled by horses," I muttered, handing the glass back to Nightshade.

"We was hopin' ya could answer that for us, Angel," Spot said quietly beside me.

"Do ye remember anything that could help me understand? Do ye know wha' happened las' night?" Night asked.

All I could remember was flashes of things, and the pain that went along with those flashes.

"I remember being slapped hard. Here," I said, pointing to my jaw. "It made me fall, and I think I hit my head, because I felt the blood in my hair. And I could smell it."

Spot's mouth tightened but he said nothing. Night glanced at him and then at me. "Do ye know who it was that hurt ye?"

I blinked a few times. Yes, I knew who it was. I remembered them from my first night in Brooklyn. How could I forget? I'd never been so terrified in my life. But I knew if I told, Spot would go off the deep end and run around the city half-cocked looking for the guy. Oh, no. I couldn't do that. I couldn't tell. Not when we had a strike to win.

"No. I…" I hesitated. "I couldn't see his face. I'm sorry."

"Do no' worry aboot it, lass," Night patted my hand. "Ye just rest up and we'll see how ye feel in the mornin'."

I smiled as much as I could. "Thanks, Night."

I watched her leave and then sighed, looking over at Spot, who was staring at me. I would've given anything to know what that boy was thinking. I folded my hands over my stomach and then sighed.

"Go ahead. Tell me how irresponsible I was," I told him, sighing again. "Yell. Scream. Get it over with."

"I ain't gonna yell at ya, Liss," he said quietly, still watching me. "So how do ya feel?"

I shrugged slightly and looked away. "What kinda question is that?"

"A normal one. Ya had me worried sick!" he exclaimed. Ah, there was what I was expecting.

"Ain't my fault, Sean. Don't yell," I said quietly.

"No, I am gonna yell!" Spot stood up and started pacing. I watched him quietly. "I can't believe I let ya get away from me. I was supposed to be watchin' over ya, Liss. But I let that Delanacy get the best'a me and now you'se hurt because of me."

I sat up slowly, watching him come towards me in pacing. He didn't even notice, racked with self-loathing. He pulled his hat off and threw it at his feet, muttering hatefully to himself. I grabbed his collar and pulled him down towards me. To say he looked shocked would have been an understatement.

"Now you listen to me, ya bum," I hissed. "Just 'cause I'm hurt, don't mean I ain't useful. Now then, quit actin' like such an ass and just be glad I ain't dead! Ya think ya can do that, Your Highness?"

I let him go and lay back down against my pillow, frowning at him. He righted his clothing, glancing away for a moment before he looked back at me.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat to me before taking his place beside my cot again. He grasped my hand and kissed my knuckles gently and I smiled, my mind drifting off to the smell of green isles and the sight of blue eyes.


	15. do you feel like a man?

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

* * *

_Do you feel like a man when you push her around?_  
_Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?_  
_Well I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's going to end_  
_as your lies crumble down, a new life she has found._

_~ "Face Down" by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_

* * *

I leaned back against the wrought iron fencing of the Newsies Square, watching the leaderless newsies. Dave fought to contain the madness, but I could tell he was losing the battle quickly. He begged Race to help and I watched him and Spot try and calm down some of the younger boys who were fighting just for the sake of fighting.

I didn't react when Jack walked out of the yard wearing a fancy new suit and carrying papes. Honestly, I expected it. He was so driven by guilt and sadness, that he would do anything to get out of the city to be a real cowboy in Santa Fe. I smiled wryly as I lifted the cigarette to my lips again. I wondered if Pulitzer bribed Jack. Something along the lines of 'If you work for me, then I'll give you lots of money so you can go run away to Santa Fe.' Yeah, I was sure it went down _exactly_ like that.

I didn't even react when Spot flipped royal shit over this new information, having to be pulled back by a large handful of Manhattaners but his mouth was still running a mile a minute, spouting out swear words and other colorful things.

Jack had to be led through the mob of angry, wounded, and betrayed newsies by a circle of cops. He looked out into the mass and when he caught my eye, I stuck my cigarette in my mouth, tipped my hat and then gave him a rather interesting hand gesture. He looked away, frowning.

_Why, Jack?_ I wondered. _You had everything, yet you thought something better was out there. Santa Fe can wait, Jack. The strike won't. Your newsies won't._

I looked away after a while, not even mustering a smile when sweet little Les tried convincing everyone that Jack was just spying on them, and that he'd be back. At least he was the only one still believing in Jack Kelly.

After the initial shock wore off, I looked up to see Spot Conlon stalking towards me, fists clenched at his sides, his usual cold mask set in place. I watched him come towards me and continued to smoke, not in any hurry to run back to him.

Last night had proven something in my soul. My past wasn't holding me back anymore. I could look at Spot and see the man he'd become, not the boy I wished he still was. I could look at myself and see how truly strong of a person I was now, because of everything I've gone though. I was content with myself. Until Spot opened his mouth.

"I'se goin' home. Brooklyn ain't in the strike no more," he informed me, his calm voice betraying his anger that was evident in his body language.

"Okay. Bye," I said, just as calm, but I wasn't angry on the inside like him.

Spot was seething now, but I didn't care. Just because he was ready to throw in the towel, didn't mean everyone should've jumped when Brooklyn backed out. I may have been his girl, but I wasn't about to take orders from him. Not by a long shot.

"Let me rephrase, doll," Spot grabbed my arm and I dropped my cigarette in the heat of my surprise. "I'se goin' home, and you'se comin' with me."

He started dragging me towards the rest of his boys, who were waiting to go home now that Jack was gone. I hissed at the pain his tugging on my arm caused and my head started swimming.

"I ain't going to Brooklyn, Spot Conlon. I'm stayin' right here and finishin' the strike. Now let me go!" I hissed and when he stopped, I wretched my wrist free of his grip, rubbing it slightly. My head calmed down as soon as I'd stopped walking.

"There ain't no strike!" Spot said, his voice raising. He was glaring at me and I glared back. I wasn't intimidated. "It's over, girl. Wise up, wouldja?"

I rolled my eyes. "It may be over for you, but I'm not givin' up this easy," I informed him. "So go back to Brooklyn. I'll be here when you're finished bein' an insolent child."

Spot growled and gripped my wrist again, harder this time, and started dragging me again. This time I wasn't ready for it. I stumbled after him, gasping as the world around me tipped forward and I found myself sprawling to the ground, my head spinning around me so fast that it made me nauseous.

I was so shocked. Sean never manhandled me. Ever. Not once. Not even when he was so angry that he could've spit fire. But he'd manhandled me now. I didn't know this man who pushed around girls to get his way, especially when he was mad. I felt doubly betrayed.

I looked up to see Mush and Blink standing in front of me, and Silver was holding onto Spot's arm, like he was afraid the Brooklyn leader would push through the Manhattaners and start pulverizing me. Racetrack came to my side and pulled my arm around his shoulders, helping me up slowly. I leaned against him, trying to regain my bearings.

"I'se think its time for ya to go back to Brooklyn, Spot," Race told him, and I looked up, watching Silver gently pull on Spot's arm, leading him away.

Silver only turned around once to tip his hat at me before I buried my face into Race's shoulder and pretended no tears were coming out.

**:-:-:-:-:**

When everyone went to Tibby's for dinner, I stayed home. I felt oddly reckless. Jack was a scab, and Spot and I were practically not together anymore. I felt reckless. I wanted to do something stupid.

So, I went to the lower part of Manhattan, to a bar I knew didn't care who I was, just liked my money. I paid for shot after shot of whiskey and once I was sufficiently drunk, I stumbled back to the Lodging House and tore apart my bunk. I ripped my sheets and threw my things around. I felt like a child, screaming my head off and tearing things up, but at the end of it, I just felt empty. Empty and useless.

I sat down at the end of my bunk on the floor, wondering what kind of girl Spot was comforting himself with tonight. Desiree, probably. His _real_ queen of Brooklyn. How stupid I was to think that Spot Conlon could change for me. I was nothing special. So why would he need to, or want to?

I had nothing to offer him. I couldn't even offer my body to him, because I was tainted, ugly, disgusting. At least Desiree could give him that. Make stars explode behind his eyes, make him whisper things I wished he'd whisper to me. I couldn't do that for him, to him. I couldn't give myself to him, because he wasn't willing to give himself to me.

And that's what hurt the most.

I got up after a while, trotted out of the Lodging House, only to spill the contents of my liver into a trash can in an alleyway. After, I started running. I didn't know where I was running to. I was just running.

Running to escape myself. Running to escape the fact that I was alone, yet again, only this time, I knew exactly where my Sean was, and he wasn't coming back. Ever.

My jaw started aching and it made tears blur in my eyes. I stopped and sat on a curb nearby and just cried. I absolutely abhorred crying. It solved nothing. But it was all I could think of doing at the moment, and the tears fell like torrential rain.

What I hated the most was that I was almost certain that at that very moment, Spot Conlon was in Brooklyn, probably laughing and playing poker with a girl in his lap, and he probably didn't once think of me.

**:Whip pan to Brooklyn!:**

Silver watched Spot quietly from his perch on the sofa. He'd bought himself a dime novel from a store in Manhattan, but he wasn't reading it anymore. He was watching his leader get drunk, his laughter growing louder and louder at the jokes that were no longer funny. A pretty girl sat beside him, of course. _But she's not pretty like Angel's pretty,_ Silver reasoned. This girl was pretty because she flaunted her curves, her chest, her legs. And she hung off Spot like a monkey in a tree.

Spot was being his coldly charming self, flashing her smirks when she whispered in his ear. But he wasn't really flirting back. And Silver was the only one that noticed it. Spot was beat up about what happened this afternoon. With Jack and Angel both. He just hid it so well.

He could wow thousands on stage with that mask.

Silver had known Spot Conlon for a long time. And there was a lot of things that Spot was, or pretended to be. And pushing Angel around wasn't one of those things. Spot Conlon never pushed _any_ girl around, for that matter. But Spot and Angel didn't know each other anymore. Yes, they'd grown up together and Spot protected her as much as he could, but they were strangers now.

Spot wasn't the pink-cheeked, grinning boy he used to be. He was a leader, he was strong. But he also had very bad pride issues. Spot would never admit it to anyone, not even Silver, but he needed Angel. Silver knew that. He knew Spot too well to think otherwise. The boy had too much pride. Silver could even recall the conversation the two had on the way back to Brooklyn this afternoon:

_"She's got too much damn pride. Dat's why she didn't come back," Spot muttered and Silver had kept quiet, letting his leader vent as the two walked in front of the others, leading them home._

_"She's got too much pride. Dat's coming from dah king of pride?" Silver tossed him a skeptical look, rolling his eyes when Spot glared at him._

_"She'll be back. I'se know it. We been apart too long fer her to stay away," Spot informed him, like he was trying to convince himself of it, more than Silver._

Even now. It was getting late and Angel was not in Brooklyn. Silver smirked slightly. It was impressive that Spot was even remotely paying attention to the card game or to the girl sitting nearly on top of him. He kept looking at the door, as if he was willing the pretty Irish girl to walk in and proclaim her love and ask for him back.

Silver smiled at the thought. This was good for Spot. He needed to see that when you hurt someone, they don't come running back. They stay away and are hurt, all by themselves, because of you.

By the end of the night, Spot had thrown his cards down and stood up, something like hurt splashed across his face. He was trashed as hell, but even alcohol couldn't mask his heart from the fact that Angel was gone, and she wasn't coming back.


	16. darker side of our hearts bleeding

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

* * *

_And I will wait until the ends_  
_When the pendulum will swing back to the darker side of our hearts bleeding_  
_I will save this empty space next to me like it's a grave_  
_Where I lay a place for us to sleep eternally together_

_~ "Ghost of You" by Good Charlotte_

* * *

I was out for hours, just running, until a few minutes before curfew at the Manhattan Lodging House, and then I climbed into bed and collapsed under the weight of my exhaustion.

The next morning, I arose early, having only slept a few hours anyways. I wasn't hungry in the least, so I bypassed the nuns and wandered aimlessly through the dirty Manhattan streets. Until I came to a Catholic church. I looked around nervously and then stepped inside.

I didn't want to touch anything, because I was dirty and my clothes were dusty from travelling the streets so much. I pulled my cap off and dropped to my knees before the giant cross in the front. It was good to be here. Church made me feel safe.

I pressed my nose into the carpet below and cried softly. I hated this feeling. It was like I had lost the sun in which I orbited around. I was a lost planet, doomed to roam the cosmos forever. And I hated it.

A hand touched my back and I shot up, hoping to glimpse blue eyes, but it was only the priest. He must have seen me come in.

"Little lamb, what brings you here?" he asked. His eyes were warm brown. I felt safe again. "What has troubled you? Have you sinned?"

I shook my head, wiping my eyes in shame. I didn't like people seeing me cry. "No, I haven't. I just… came here. It seemed the right thing to do."

The priest smiled at me and touched my head like a good father would to his child. "So why were you crying, then, if you had not sinned?"

I sniffled. "Father, is it possible to love someone who's hurt you?" I asked him, and he helped me to my feet and into one of the wooden pews.

"I believe," the father said, thinking. "That anyone is able to love, and to be loved. No matter what they do. Just because they hurt you, doesn't mean you shouldn't love them. Is that not what our own Father has taught us?" He motioned to the stained glass window in the front that showed God.

I nodded. "But is it right?"

The priest smiled. "All love is right, little lamb. You must be wise, though. Love always seeks the good of another. Hurting you is not your highest good. But I am sure if he loves you like I think he loves you, then you will do just fine."

I blinked and then looked up at him. "How did you know it was about a boy?"

The priest's eyes crinkled and he laughed. I smiled a little.

"My dear child, you come into my church and cry and you cannot tell me that it is not because of a boy," he said, still laughing. "Now then, do you love this boy?"

I nodded. "Very, very much. Too much."

The priest touched my head again and smiled. "You can never love someone too much. There's no shame or crime in that. And he loves you, too. I have a good feeling about it."

I nodded again, feeling better. "You know, Father, I'm glad I came. I didn't really plan on this, but now I'm glad I did. Thank you."

"You can never ignore the calling of the Heavenly Father. I believe you being here was divine. You needed to hear it, and I needed to tell you it," the Father smiled again. "Now get back out there and win that strike of yours."

I smiled and stood up, stuffing my hair into my cap. "Thanks!" I called and darted out of the church.

I didn't feel all that better, but at least I wasn't about to mop around all day today. I felt rejuvenated. Well, a little bit, at least. As I walked to the market in the middle of Manhattan, I allowed myself to wonder what Spot was doing. I wondered if he'd slept at all the night before, or was up all night entertaining a girl who was probably very talented at what she did.

Disgusting.

"Heya, Angel. Or should I say… _Lissa_," a voice said from behind me. I whirled around, shocked and disappointed to see Desiree sidling up to me, dressed in one of her twit dresses. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm really not in the mood to cat fight with you, Desiree. And why are you here? Shouldn't you be in Brooklyn with your king?" I turned around and continued toward the market.

She followed me.

"I don't work in Brooklyn. But I did see him last night. He's over you, you know," she said but I didn't take the bait.

"What do you really want, Desiree? I'm hungry and you're irritating me." I turned and stared at her.

Desiree shrugged and crossed her arms. "Oh, nothing. I just came to tell you that my Spotty is quite good in bed. In case you were wondering. Since, you know, you'd never _get_ him in bed. He doesn't like girls that have… _issues_."

That sent me over the edge. I pulled my fist back and slammed it right in her stupid little nose. She staggered backwards, in tears, her fingers covering her bloody nose. I smiled at her. It felt good to punch her. And my knuckles only hurt a little bit.

She ran off, still holding her nose and I grinned after her. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

Later that afternoon, I'd went on my usual jog through the city, since running was the only thing that kept me happy, when I walked back into the Lodging House to find Jack, Dave, Les and Sarah there. Jack was talking to the newsies and I crossed my arms.

"I see you found your way back, Cowboy," I said coldly. The newsies were shocked. I hadn't spoken to them since the incident with Spot.

"Angel, I knows you're mad, but please listen," Jack started, but I cut him off.

"No. You listen to me, Jack Kelly." I stepped up into his face, glaring, even though he was taller than me. "If you ever, _ever_ pull some shit like this again, I will personally stick my foot so far up your ass that it'll come out of your mouth,_ then_ I'll kick ya from here to Staten Island and back again. Think ya can understand that, Cowboy?"

Yes, I was yelling at him. But I was angry with him. Angry because if it hadn't been for his selfishness, we'd never have gotten into this mess. I didn't blame him for the whole thing with Spot, though. No, I blamed Spot for that.

What I didn't expect was a hug. He hugged me so tightly. I blinked a few times and then frowned, not sure why I was shocked by his hug.

"I would desoive it all, Angel. I was stupid and selfish and it wasn't fair tah you'se what I did," Jack told me and then leaned back. I wrinkled my nose at him.

"You're right. Ya were stupid and selfish. But ya came back. And that's good enough fer me." I smiled a little. "But my threat still stands. Do this again, and I'm comin' for you."

Jack winked at me and then let me go. "I'll hold ya to it, Angel," he promised and then looked back at his boys. "So, we'se going to talk to Denton now, sees if we can't finish this strike once and for all."

The foursome left the Lodging House then and I sighed, leaning against the wall nearby. I wanted a cigarette, but I didn't feel like sitting outside. It was pretty hot out.

"So, Angel, now that you'se back, wanna play a friendly game of cards?" Race asked, producing his deck of cards from inside his vest. He grinned and stuck a cigar between his teeth.

"Now that I'm back, huh? What's that s'posed to mean?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Means that now you're talkin' again," Mush came over and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Come play cards with us, Angel."

I nodded and followed the boys upstairs to play poker. They were right, I supposed. I was back. I'd been out all day since early this morning, I was gone all last night until two minutes before curfew. They really didn't see me anymore. I'd been running around to Queens and Staten Island the night prior, asking if they were still in the strike.

_I knocked on the door in Queens, nervously. Fee had told me to come by anytime so we could hang out, and now was that time. Sadly, I wasn't here to see Felicity. A small but intimidating boy opened the door._

_"What?"_

_I blinked. "Uhm, is Patch here? I need to talk to him," I said nervously._

_The boy nodded and shut the door in my face. I rolled my eyes and sat down on the curb, glaring down at the street. The only option I had left was Lucky in Staten Island. I'd met him briefly at the rally, and he told me if I needed anything, to come find him. Lucky was pretty cool with Spot. It was weird how suddenly everyone wanted to protect me now that I had become Spot's girl._

_"Angel?"_

_I stood up and smiled at Patch. He grinned and we spit-shook in greeting. I was nervous now. "Hello, Patch. I'm sorry for coming on such short notice. Have you heard?"_

_Patch's face went grim. "Bout Kelly? Yeah, I heard. Heard 'bout Spot, too. Ya doin' all right, Angel?"_

_I frowned. "This discussion ain't about me, Patch. I came to ask if you were still in the strike with us."_

_"I hate to be the one to tell ya dis, but I can't put me boys and Fee in that kind of situation. Without Jack, Manhattan's gonna crash and burn, Angel. And wit'out Brooklyn..." Patch put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Angel."_

_I nodded. "But we could try, couldn't we?" I argued. "Why all of a sudden should we throw in the towel. We don't need Jack and we definately don't need Brooklyn. We can win this, Patch!"_

_Patch smiled at me, and I knew it was over. "Ya got great optimism, Angel. I just hope it ain't misplaced."_

_It was the same answer in Staten Island. They couldn't put themselves in the line of fire, after hearing that Jack had gone scab, and that Spot wasn't with them anymore. It depressed me, so I'd stayed out, thinking that running off my disappointment and pain would make things better. It didn't._

But sitting down in the middle of the bunk room, playing cards with my favorite Manhattaners, I wondered if this was what family was like.


	17. until you run out

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

* * *

_It's sacrifice_  
_False pretense you'll hurt again_  
_Stop pretending to deny_  
_False pretense you'll hurt again_  
_So play the game until you run out_  
_And play the game into my hand_  
_~ "False Pretense" by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_

* * *

I was awoken the next morning by bustling newsies. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if I'd actually slept in late this morning and I was shocked to realize that I had. I felt disgusted. I never slept past six o'clock. It was just a ritual now. A ritual I hadn't planned on breaking.

I got dressed and brushed my hair, without bothering to do much else. I wasn't planning on impressing anyone today, and I didn't feel like looking good. You didn't need to look good for this job anyhow.

I followed the Manhattaners to the yard of the Distribution Center and squatted down as Jack handed out the Newsies Banner, as it were. I was just following them, and that's where they went.

"I hope this works, Cowboy," I told him, taking the papes from him. He only grinned up at me. I walked with Mush to deliver the papers everywhere, opting not to go with Race, because he was going to Sheepshead and I wasn't too keen on going to Brooklyn, even if it was with Racetrack.

**:Whip pan to Brooklyn!:**

Racetrack Higgins was walking. He wasn't really paying much attention, since he'd travelled this way one too many times from always going to Sheepshead Bay, of course. He wasn't insanely surprised to see Silver at the end of the bridge, waiting for him and smoking a cigarette.

"I'm guessin' Spot hoid 'bout Jack, huh?" Race asked, handing the boy one of his papers.

"A' course," Silver shrugged, looking down at the paper Race gave him.

"Boidies," they both said at the same time. Race gave him a wry smile.

"So how's Angel?" Silver asked him.

Race sighed. "Ain't doin' good. She'd never admit it, but she ain't doin' good at all. Last night was the first night we got her to stick around. She's been out most of the time, an' gets back just before curfew. Ain't right what she's doin', but we can't stop her. She's too stubborn for that."

Silver sighed. "I had a feelin' she'd be takin' this real hard. She cried?"

Race shook his head. "Nah. If she has, I ain't seen her do it. She's real solid, Angel is."

Silver leaned back against the bridge and looked up at Race. "Spot's 'bout the same. Nobody but me can see it. He ain't hisself."

"Good. He deserves to suffer a little bit." Race pulled the cigar from his lips and blew the smoke out.

"Damn right." Silver smiled. "I'll let Spot know 'bout the pape, Race. Thanks fer bringin' it 'round."

Race nodded. "Carryin' the banner."

"Carryin' the banner."

**:Whip pan to Angel!:**

I leaned back, sitting up on the Horace Greeley statue, hugging one knee as we waited. After a while, everyone started frowning.

"So when's the others comin', Kid?" Mush asked Blink, frowning. But Jack was frowning, too.

"They ain't comin'. Ain't gonna be nobody but us," Jack said, bitterness in his voice. He'd worked so hard, but I wasn't sure it was all for loss.

I had a good feeling.

"Have hope, Jack," Specs told him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Yeah," Jack muttered, unconvinced.

We all waited impatiently, until Les smiled out amidst the bitter feelings. He was such the eternal optimist.

"When the circulation bell starts ringing, will we hear it?" he asked, mostly to himself, quoting Jack.

"Nah," Race told him, and wiped his brow. It was hot out. "What if the Delancy's come out swingin'? Will we hear it?"

"No!" Les cried.

"Atta boy," Race tapped the bill of the younger boy's hat.

That's when we heard it. I think it hit everyone at once. We all turned to see hundreds of kids streaming through the streets, waving Jack's paper in their hands, shouting and holding signs. I beamed with pride, and smiled at Jack, who looked a little caught up in the fact that everyone had shown up.

"Brooklyn!"

I turned to see Spot leading his army of newsies, looking as fierce and brutal and gorgeous as ever, and my heart faltered a bit. I knew this would happen. As soon as I saw him again, my heart would cry out and I would need to be with him again. But I couldn't. I couldn't be hurt again. Silver winked my way and I smiled a little at him.

I stood back on the statue, watching quietly as Jack and David disappeared into the _World_ building. I chewed my bottom lip nervously, wondering how long this was going to take before we knew the verdict.

"Hey, Liss."

I blinked and then looked down at Spot, who was peering up at me, squinting from the sun. I swallowed nervously and then looked away. Why was Fate so cruel? She knew I wouldn't be able to face Spot, yet here he was, peering up at me, waiting for me to say something, anything, back.

I decided to humor Her. "Heya."

He was quiet for a moment. "We should talk, Liss."

"It's Angel now, Spot," I told him, pulling my cap down a little more, to hid my eyes. "Lissa's gone."

"Angel, I know ya mad at me, but…" Spot started and then sighed.

I frowned and then looked down at him, chewing my bottom lip again. "Spot, please don't try and fix this. Ya meant what ya did, and there ain't no changin' it."

Spot nodded, and I took this time to notice him a little more closely. He looked worn out, and there was sleep circles under his eyes. I slid down to the dusty cobblestones and looked up into his eyes as he lifted his own gaze to mine.

I pressed my lips together, thinking.

"Let's face it, Spot. You don't know me, and I don't know you. We ain't good for each other," I lied, looking away as I spoke.

He looked away, too. "Yeah, ya right," he said, lying as well. "Will ya… at least come to Brooklyn sometimes? Ya know, to see Sneak and Silver and all."

I sighed. "No promises."

I watched him walk back through the crowd of sweatshop kids, pushing forward without looking back at me. I choked on my sobs and leaned back against Horace Greeley, pulling my cap off to run my fingers through my hair before I put it back on my head with my hair stuffed up into it.

I climbed back onto my perch on the statue and watched Dave and Jack come out of the building. Jack disappeared for a moment and then pulled Les onto his shoulders, arms raised.

"WE BEAT 'EM!" I heard him shout before a roar was emitted throughout the mass of kids joined together outside the _World_ building.

I felt relief. We'd finally won. Thank God. I'd have to get the details from Jack later, since I was sure Pulitzer didn't just put the price back where it was. But I couldn't celebrate like everyone else was doing. I was… numb, as stupid as that sounded. I couldn't feel happy.

Things passed me in a whirl, until I looked over to see Jack climbing into Teddy Roosevelt's carriage, inside this time. I smiled wryly. We'd all heard about how Jack snuck out of the Refuge when Teddy came to visit, catching a ride underneath his carriage. He told the story as if the mayor had offered him a ride specifically. It was still a pretty entertaining tale, though.

I couldn't help feeling a little sad, though. Jack was leaving again, this time for good reasons. He was doing what he wanted, and I supposed that was a good enough reason to get the hell out of the city. The mob had dispersed a bit and I watched the Manhattaners all head for the yard of the Distribution Office. That's life for you. Hawkin' headlines and hoping you don't get into any fights.

I didn't know how much I wanted to be a newsie anymore. Maybe I'd go and stay with Diana, or become a pickpocket again. Being a newsie held bittersweet memories for me. And, honestly, I shouldn't have been a newsie. I was a girl that had the means to be more wealthy, but chose this life because it was all I knew. All the other boys were orphans or runaways and had nowhere to go. But I did.

And that made me selfish.

I watched Jack come back and sighed, watching Sarah push through the crowds and kiss him. The boys around them catcalled to their hearts delight and I suddenly felt very sorry for myself. _It could've been me getting a kiss like that,_ I thought quietly. But, no. The only man I wanted a kiss from had hitched a ride with Teddy Roosevelt, most likely to go back to Brooklyn. He was waving regally and tipping his hat, mobs of fans gaping after him.

And when he caught my eye, however he did so in this giant rabble, he turned his head away.

* * *

**One chapter left. Review.**


	18. you're everything

_You're all I want. You're all I need. You're everything. Everything._

The rest of that day was that of celebration. Most of the newsies stuck around to party with the Manhattaners about their victory, and I hugged Felicity when she hugged me first, but I couldn't be happy. We must have gone to dinner because I was walking away from Tibby's with Felicity and some of the Queens boys and I didn't feel hungry anymore.

God, I was a mess.

"You gotta go talk to Spot, Angel," Fee said quietly and I peered up at her, frowning.

"I can't. It's so hard to talk to him, Fee. It hurts," I told her and then looked down at my feet that were shuffling along the sidewalk.

Felicity slid her arm around my shoulders. "Does it hurt more then what you're doing to yourself right now?"

"No," I said faintly.

"Well, you can't keep moping around."

"I can mope whenever I want," I grumbled and Felicity laughed.

"Sure can, Angel, but it's not good for you."

I sighed. Of course she was right. I'd be stupid to think that she wasn't right, but I didn't want her to be right. I didn't want anyone to know how much I truly wanted to run back to Brooklyn and attack the bastard, but I couldn't.

The walls were up again.

I stayed in the Lodging House and played cards with Skittery, Mush and Race but my heart wasn't in it. Eventually I had to bow out since I was losing money now. I was pretty decent at cards, but I was losing every single game and I couldn't keep giving money away like this.

I stepped out to smoke and sat down on the curb outside the Lodging House, looking up at the quickly darkening sky. I fumbled through my pockets for my matchbox and was surprised to see one produced before me. I lit my cigarette and then looked up at Silver.

"Why are you here?" I asked wearily, looking away so he wouldn't see how sad I must have looked.

"I'se heah to take ya to Sneak. He wants to see ya, but he ain't allowed to leave Brooklyn," Silver said quietly. "Spot's tryin' to respect ya by havin' us all leave ya alone, but I don't listen too well."

I swallowed my tears. He was trying to respect me? I almost cried at that. I'd been so mean, and now he was being so nice.

I stood up.

"Yeah, I'd like to see Sneak," I said softly and then stuck my head into the Lodging House. "Race, tell Jack I'm going to Brooklyn for a bit to see Sneak, will ya?"

Race looked up from his card game and I watched something odd pass between Silver and Race's eyes. "Sure thing, Angel. Be safe."

I walked through Manhattan with Silver, still smoking quietly. He didn't say much to me and I wondered what in the world was buzzing around inside his head. He worried me sometimes.

Silver and I got across the bridge and I stopped suddenly, looking up at Silver, frowning. "Why am I really here, Silver?"

"Just trust me, Angel," Silver said, pulling me onto the abandoned docks. He pushed me down onto a crate. "Stay there. I'll get Sneak."

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't stupid. I wasn't here to see Sneak. Silver must have thought he was such a slick boy.

"Silver," I called to him. He stopped and jogged back to me.

"What's wrong, Angel?" he asked.

"Why are you doin' this, Silver? Really, why? Why is gettin' Spot and me together such a big deal?" I peered up at him.

Silver was quiet for a long time, glancing away nervously. "Well, Angel. Let's jus' say I'se know what its like to care about Spot Conlon."

Realization dawned on me. My eyes widened and I inhaled sharply.

"You love him," I whispered.

Silver smiled wryly. "Lov_ed_. He never was gonna be mine anyhow. Always thinkin' about you'se and whatnot. 'Sides, I'se got Nightshade now. You and Conlon deserve each other. Honestly."

I was quiet for a moment, taking it all in. "You're my best friend, Matthew Harris," I said softly, staring at my hands.

"And you'se mine, Lissa O'Rourke."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as he walked away. I wanted to smoke, but I couldn't find it in me. I was nervous now. I pulled my cap off and ran my fingers through my hair.

I heard a soft _meow_ nearby and I looked up to see a cute tabby tomcat padding my way. How he found the docks was beyond me. I smiled and reached my hand out to him, beckoning him over.

"Hey, you," I cooed and he came running. I scratched under his chin and he purred and rubbed my calf, stretching his body up like cats do. "Where'd ya come from, huh? How'd you find yourself here?"

He _meow_ed again at me and I smiled. Animals were so cute, especially cats. I couldn't help it. They were soft and nice. He jumped at some sound I couldn't hear and scampered off into the darkness, tail flicking happily. My shoulders dropped in disappointment.

"Don't worry 'bout him. He's off to meet his best girl," a voice told me from behind.

I swallowed hard, feeling my heart pick up speed and my pulse start racing at the sound of his voice. _Oh, God, Lissa, you are such a fool._

"How can you tell?" I asked, looking out into the darkness where the tomcat had gone.

"He had his best cat suit on," he replied simply and then sat down on a nearby crate. Not beside me, but not far either. He was staring out into the water.

"Maybe his best girl doesn't want to see him," I offered, glad to play this little game with him. I was glad to play _any_ game with him, no matter how stupid. I wanted to hear him speak. His voice wrapped around me like a vice I never wanted to get out of.

And that made me sick.

"Maybe," he allowed. "But he wants to see her."

"That's too bad. Because when he gets there, she'll turn him away," I told him, voice soft. "He hurt her."

He was quiet for a long time.

"She'll forgive him."

"Will she?" I looked over at him, and he looked back at me. He looked worse than this afternoon. It was like all the life was drained out of his body. I looked into his eyes and down into his soul, and there was just sadness. I felt bad for being short with him.

"If she was to listen to him, what would he say to her?" I asked after a while, looking away again.

"He would say…" He stopped to think for a moment. "He would say that he's been a royal ass to her, and didn't treat her like she deserves. He would say that he'd gladly get on his hands and knees and beg for her forgiveness and for her to take him back."

I smiled wryly. "He doesn't beg. He's got too much damn pride for beggin'."

"Maybe, but he knows how he feels 'bout that best girl of his. And he ain't willin' to give her up without a fight."

"_Would_ he fight for her?" I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking.

"He would fight to the death," he said quietly.

"Oh," I said, just as quiet.

"And what would me best girl say to that?"

I looked up and found him watching me, those light eyes peering at me, dark from the night around us. It was wrong. Oh, it was very wrong, but I couldn't help myself. The words just...

"Yes," I blurted and then frowned, looking away in annoyance. "She would say that she forgives you."

He let out a joyous whoop that embarrassed me to death, since it echoed off the buildings and across the water. He closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me so tight, spinning me around and around until I couldn't see straight anymore. He was laughing and I was blushing.

"_Tá tú mo chroí, Lissa_," he whispered into my ear.

And then his mouth was on mine.

But it wasn't like anything else. It wasn't our sexual tension-filled kisses from before. I'd never been kissed this way before in my life. It was nice, and his hands felt warm as they pressed into the small of my back. I gripped his shoulders and pressed closer, losing my wits for a moment until I heard a _meow_.

I leaned back and looked down to see the tabby cat trotting along the docks with a sleek white cat with black paws following him, the tips of their tails brushing. The tomcat stopped every few moments to lick the white cat's ears, and she just pulled out from under him. I smiled sweetly, blushing.

"Will ya stay with me tonight?" Spot whispered in my ear.

"Only if ya promise me one thing," I told him.

"Anything," he agreed readily, his hand pressing against the apple of my cheek. I blinked and then frowned, grasping his hand when I noticed it.

"What is this?" I frowned at him, lifting one of his hands, his knuckles caked with dried blood. I gave it a look and then stared up at him expectantly.

"Uh, nothin'," he said, looking embarrassed. I frowned and took a step back, crossing my arms. "All right, I'll tell ya. I went home today and some smart-ass decided to ask if he could go after ya now that me and you was finished. So I soaked his ass."

"Jesus, Conlon, are you _kidding_ me?" I slammed my hand into my forehead, groaning in annoyance. "Okay. Promise me two things. One, quit soakin' people just because they want me. I am pretty fabulous."

Spot grinned at me and I sighed at him. "And the second thing?" he asked.

"Quit bossin' me around."

"Deal," he agreed instantly and then kissed me again.

At the edge of the docks, two figures watched Spot and Angel. The younger boy jabbed his elbow into the older boy's ribs.

The younger boy grinned in triumph.

"Mission accomplished."

_And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?_

* * *

**_Tá tú mo chroí, Lissa = You are my heart, Lissa._**

**If you guys want a sequel, make sure you mention it in the review. :) I have the summary on my profile all ready, but I won't post it unless you guys want one. And there may be a casting call for it as well. So... review and tell me you want a sequel if you want to be involved!**

**And make sure you have me on author alert. I'm not sure when I'll spit out the prologue for the sequel that may or may not happen. :) It all depends on you'se guys.**

**Thanks for being so great! Mwah and until next time...**

**CTB,**

**xxWickedWench/Sara**


End file.
